


Wrapped in a Dream

by wolfcloaks



Series: Somnum Somniare [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, Breeding Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Claiming Bites, Come Kink, Dream Sharing, Fae & Fairies, Familiars, Feral Derek, Flashbacks, Kidnapping, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, No Hale Fire, Non-Linear Narrative, Omega Stiles, Possessive Behavior, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski are Brothers, Size Difference, Soulmates, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfcloaks/pseuds/wolfcloaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds him in the middle of the clearing, mouth grappling with a foreign tongue, alabaster skin damp with the remnants of prior rain. </p><p>He's absolutely beautiful, Derek thinks, this creature, this <em>boy</em>. </p><p>--</p><p>Soulmates AU w/ dream sharing, magic!Stiles, alpha!Derek and a touch of A/B/O</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Verse Background/Pack Rosters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting an acutal update later tonight but I just wanted to get this out there, this'll be updated as the fic goes on so any questions related to dynamics or hiearchy should be directed here, if anything's a bit wonky or unclear just let me know and I'll do my best to help!

Here’s an updated (so far) pack roster/hierarchy (with pictures because why not?), as always, in this verse the capitalized designation is indicative of gender identity while the lower-case relates to hierarchical position within the pack. For all intents and purposes alpha mates have equal status to the pack alpha and are often deferred to in high stress situations.

 

As far as **timeline**  I've decided that the verse is gonna be from 2014 to present (and beyond)

 

An individual can be Alpha gendered regardless of sex, as with the other designations. Both Talia and John are Alpha gendered but identify themselves sexually as Male and Female respectively, in this verse, as in reality, sex and gender are not mutually exclusive, nor do genitalia define either aspect. Gender identity here relates to personality traits applicable to each designation, this is where (kinda) traditional A/B/O dynamics come into play (I’m sucker for it, what can I say?)

 

Being both Alpha/alpha yields a considerable boost in power which often manifests itself in the physical/biological, increasing likelihood of conception, strength, resistance to injury/rate of healing, and in certain cases stature/musculature (Size kink is a thing and Stiles is a pervert so you can guess which case I’m referring to).

 

Alpha gendered individuals are seen as leaders, providers, protectors, strong etc

 

Beta gendered individuals are seen as level headed, “right hands”, reliable, second in command (after the alpha mate, if the pack’s alpha has one) etc

 

Omega gendered individuals are seen as breeders (if you’re more _old school_ ), caring, nurturing, clever, fiercely protective of their packmates and offspring, what they lack in brute physicality they make up for in wit and speed, and as we know are capable of gestating life regardless of sex

 

There are of course bigots out there who believe that all Omegas belong at home, under their Alpha’s thumb, and that Beta’s are merely good for attending to things the Alpha can’t be bothered with. Those people can choke (:

 

I really hope this made sense, feel free to drop a message if I need to clear anything up.

 

Stilinski Pack (2014-mid 2015):

 

[John](http://static.tumblr.com/1426457703fbec30028d6d461082a85d/i94svoj/kEYo4odii/tumblr_static_1c08bxmvegn4488socg8408og.gif)-Alpha/alpha

[Claudia](http://4b.img.v4.skyrock.net/2955/85082955/pics/3117937409_1_3_nNC8hOn6.gif)(deceased)-Omega/beta (alpha mate)

[Scott](http://65.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5jgezfBFM1rrpp85.gif)-Alpha/beta  
[Stiles](http://fangirlish.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/dylan-2.gif)-Omega/beta (potential alpha mate)

[Lucan](https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3eqs1g5G21qkzp87o1_400.gif)-Alpha/beta (familiar)

 

Hale Pack (2014-mid 2015):

 

[Talia](http://66.media.tumblr.com/45520de9345c7bb92c1ce0a6444f34c4/tumblr_n52oc0cmTx1r4sab9o4_250.gif)-Alpha/alpha

[Erik](http://media4.popsugar-assets.com/files/thumbor/rWPPa5stM9Xbbg9BnM05Si9SOc8/fit-in/1024x1024/filters:format_auto-!!-:strip_icc-!!-/2015/01/12/974/n/1922283/44543c1899cda4c8_derek-shepherd-greyx27s-anatomy-greys-anatomy-patrick-dempsey-Favim.com-1644679/i/When-He-Masters-Wistful-Look.gif)(deceased)-Omega/beta (alpha mate)

[Laura](http://67.media.tumblr.com/83a0ea5e046b3cb187023de52229bc29/tumblr_inline_nh3ilywCof1t6da4c.gif)-Alpha/beta

[Derek](http://66.media.tumblr.com/1e72d08bf7674037ea5de1f2195c0687/tumblr_n3mtdpjtYz1rgtsvqo1_250.gif)-Alpha/beta (potential Alpha/alpha)

[Cora](http://67.media.tumblr.com/c59c8cfd829cce59ac112d11f955b6dd/tumblr_inline_o0rdnqW0a21tae3h3_500.gif)-Beta/beta

[Peter](http://67.media.tumblr.com/95381b582e8224d9ca265383374f6730/tumblr_inline_n12x194At21rkkmoo.gif)-Beta/beta

[Celia](http://lovelace-media.imgix.net/uploads/721/20041a00-eabb-0132-646a-0ecefe7c2201.gif?)-Alpha/beta

[Alden](http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lspgr70P5V1qbbne5o1_500.gif)-Omega/beta

 

In the present day (chapters marked with 2016 and beyond), due to Stiles and Derek's union the Hale and Stilinski packs have merged, with the addition of Derek's beta's, [Erica](http://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m94rpgkZcX1rsvwcd.gif),[Isaac](http://24.media.tumblr.com/45b2fdba389ea900b559e10c9190dd3f/tumblr_mqs0xyt6ZV1rqogfgo1_500.gif), and [Boyd](http://static.tumblr.com/e208632a45ba45ca398092e089a4ab1c/tzwkakl/SGwmoz45o/tumblr_static_sidebar.gif). Naturally, Stiles and Derek's children will be added once Stiles gives birth. The merging of both packs was also an influencing factor on Derek's appointment to county alpha.


	2. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the final chapter of ITPIW and this idea just wouldn't leave my head, I'm uploading it now to get it out of my system and if you all show an interest in more I'll begin updating once the final chapter of ITPIW is posted. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Dream (July  8th 2014; 11 pm)**

Derek's POV

_He's up and out of bed before he can even register why._

_He makes no effort to dress, remaining naked as he always is in slumber._

_The chilled hardwood of his ancestral home whispers beneath his feet, creaking with urgency._

_He exits Hale Manor, shrouded in the cloak of night, the surrounding woods are vibrant, thrumming with life, for once the fauna seem excited to see him, nipping at his heels joyfully, a far cry from their usual fleeing tremble._

_They welcome him with open arms, crowding and curling around his hulking mass, seemingly oblivious to the predator in their midst._

_His heart is pounding in his ears, a whirring rush and his fangs are elongated in a mid shift._

_His eyes, like ruby beacons, cut through the dense thicket of forest that surrounds him, his nagging consciousness says he’s searching for something, someone, it insists._

_The pull is stronger now and he increases his pace, running, pushing forward, tanned skin a smooth blur shrouded in evergreen._

  
_He finds him in the middle of the clearing, mouth grappling with a foreign tongue, alabaster skin damp with the remnants of prior rain._

_He's absolutely beautiful, Derek thinks, angelic even, this creature, this boy._

_He’s a lithe little thing,  thinly muscled, but capable, thrumming with power._

_Yours. Mate. Taste. Take. Forever ._

_His mind chants, repeats like a mantra, over and over, words blurring together in prayer._

  
_His mate is covered in beauty marks, freckles that dance across his skin as he communes with his Mother Earth._

_The scent of magic permeates the air, fresh and clean like new linen, pure and surely of Gaia._

_The force of it almost brings Derek to his knees._

_Thick lashes fan across sharp cheekbones, miles long and suffusing him with want. Derek's practically salivating now, fangs itching with the urge to taste._

_He forces himself to regulate his breathing, schooling his harsh panting into deeper breaths, accepting the magic tingling at the back of his skull, trusting that his mate won’t harm him._

  
_A warmth settles and blooms in his chest, wrapping around him, he feels safer now, content._  
_The pull magnifies and he finds himself entering the clearing, his breath catching on a gasp as the flora bloom around him._

_The blades tickle his ankles, while the petals caress him in a playful tease. The laugh that escapes his throat is bright and child-like, a rich sound that pitches highly with disuse._

_His mate's eyes are open now, half lidded and shining gold._

_Derek pauses in front of him, knees bent, hands hanging by his sides._

_Slender fingers reach out to grasp Derek's chin, the soft skin of the boy's hand caressing his jaw, exploring, gliding over the planes of his face as if committing it to memory._

  
_The smell of his mate's arousal clouds his mind and he crowds closer, resting their foreheads together._

  
_His beloved's lips twist into a smirk and he tilts Derek's head to the side gently, warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear._

  
_"My alpha," he says fondly._

  
_The warmth returns, intensified now, a white hot heat that nearly blinds him, makes him delirious with need._

  
_At the first taste of his beloved's flesh he feels himself bloom to full hardness._

_Each swipe of his tongue against that pale throat brings him closer to release._

  
_He wants to bite._

  
_He wants to taste the magic on his tongue, wants to split himself open, right over his heart, feed himself to his mate, rut into him as their blood mingles, ‘till he can feel the pressure of his knot, the promise of new life._

  
_Gentle words guide him out of his reprieve, his hearing is strained, labored by the sound of his pounding heart._

  
_"Come find me, my wolf."_

* * *

**Reality (July 9th 2014; 5:50 am)**

  
Derek jolts up in bed with a gasp, sheets shredding as his claws slice through them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, Derek calls Stiles a boy but that's in reference to how innocent and youthful he appears during their first meeting, I envision him to be about 20/21, while Derek is 23/24, so despite his wording this is not underage hence no warning.
> 
> This will be solidified and expanded upon as the fic continues and the two get to see more of each other, in both the dream and real world.


	3. Lucan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, looks like I have a new WIP! I'll be updating once a week from here on out, on either Wednesday or Sunday, once I get a rhythm going I'll give you guys the final word.

**Flashback (July 9th 2014; begins at 6 am)**

Stiles' POV

The mossy Earth crumbles beneath the vice of his fingertips, acting as a cooling salve to the torrid heat of his fevered skin.

 

As he waits for the temporary effects of the dream bond to ware off, [Stiles](http://66.media.tumblr.com/ab7e3022135de3c5854ad0fa93a556a2/tumblr_mz9suiVld01sciw80o4_250.gif) recalls the beauty of [his mate](http://66.media.tumblr.com/252037a085fad1a880284cc5e8abd438/tumblr_n3jj2kRb4K1sciw80o1_250.gif).

 

A specimen worth marveling, the Alpha/alpha prototype if there ever was one;

 

Smooth tanned skin that enhanced the ebony softness of his cropped hair, piercing blue-green eyes, magnetizing and near hypnotic in their intensity, and a jawline that could make Gaia herself weep.

 

The feel of his mate’s densely muscled body still whispers along his skin, as teasing as the scratch of his stubble against the hollow of Stiles’ throat.

 

Its enough to coax him to near hardness and he bites his tongue on a moan, back bowing at the memory.

 

When he feels the last of the effects subside (along with his burgeoning erection), he rises to his feet, cheeks pinkening as he takes in his state of undress.

 

He’s going to have to walk home naked. And wouldn’t that just be the perfect time to run into his mate?

 

He’s about to clothe himself in a hodge-podge of moss and spearmint when the lilt of [his mother](http://66.media.tumblr.com/e289da95b6945354de8f1139fd5caf01/tumblr_inline_o0g2kgTBZe1tae3h3_500.gif)’s voice soothes over his consciousness;

 

“We are children of the Earth, sweet Genim, think of this flesh as a protective sheath for our power, do not let it bind you.”

 

He smiles at the memory, grin widening as he pinpoints his location.

 

He casts a glance upward, squinting in concentration as he makes note of Solis’ position, it can’t be any later than six in the morning so he allows for a quick detour on his path back home.

 

The Nemeton stands toweringly at the head of the clearing, proud and watchful as it guards its domain.

 

Stiles ducks his head in reverence as he nears the behemoth, murmuring his intentions as the magic of the tree dances along his skin.

 

Once satisfied, The Nemeton wraps his spark in a near familial embrace, accepting his request.

 

Heaving branches lift, uncovering the oak’s base and granting him access to his mother.

 

He sinks to his knees gracefully, mindful of The Nemeton’s expansive roots; carved into its trunk are the symbol laden scripts of his mother’s and ancestors’ names.

 

Her headstone, the one they acquired for the customs typical of a traditional human funeral, rests in the town’s cemetery baring her mortal name; Claudia Primrose Stilinski- Beloved  Wife and Mother.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he quells the routine chattering of his overactive mind and envisions the hopeful blush of new life, vibrant and unlimited in its possibility.

 

His spark flares briefly, pulsating in a burst before flickering out in rest.

 

Golden eyes scan the refurbished foot of the oak before him, gone are the weeds tangled around it, in their place are sweet cherry blossoms that rise up and around the text indicative of his mother’s name.

 

The Nemeton caresses his spark in thanks and he lets out a giggle at the feeling, body twitching at the tickling sensation.

 

The oak gives his spark a playful tug before freeing him, letting him sober a bit before speaking to his mother.

 

Slender fingers glide over the dimpled bark in front of him, he can feel the essence of the lives it houses vibrating in response to his presence.

 

The glow illuminating his mother’s name intensifies and he takes that as his que to begin speaking.

 

“I met my mate today, mama.” He begins, heartbeat ticking up at the mere thought of his alpha.

 

“Well, I dream walked with him actually, he was beautiful, ma, more than I could ever imagine.” He chews the flesh of his bottom lip as he struggles to find the words to continue.

 

“He’s an alpha of course, a shifter, but there’s a sadness in his heart, a darkness…”

 

Stiles’ mouth tapers down at the thought and the tree caresses his spark once more, attempting to comfort him.

 

He strokes the wood again in thanks before continuing on.

 

“I hope that I can be good for him, that I can manage to banish that darkness-you should've seen the way the forest came alive, mom, it was blooming around him. There were doe nipping at his heels, petals fluttering over his skin, it was like a freakin’ Disney movie.”

 

Stiles snorts at thought, suddenly imagining his stoic mate as a prince, and he as a slumbering princess. At least he already knew he could work a dress.

 

“They sensed his worth, the purity in him that remains despite the tug of his misfortune.”

 

His heart aches at the thought of his mate suffering alone, trudging along without an anchor.

 

“We need each other, mama, I know we can be something special...I just hope he finds me soon, for both of our sakes.”

 

Before the longing could take hold completely and further dampen his mood, Stiles changed the subject, switching over to talks of his father and older brother.

 

He informs their mother of Scott’s decision to switch from Neuroscience to Pediatric Medicine, and their father’s latest pet project.

 

He’s building a shed to house Stiles’ gardening supplies or attempting to rather.

 

The sight of it is a bit ghastly if he’s being honest but neither he nor Scott have the heart to tell their father as much.

 

Claudia’s tinkling laugh cuts through the clearing and Stiles joins her in kind, relishing in their commingled melody.

 

His spark taps at the base of his spine, reminding him of the ever passing time and he winces as he realizes that two hours have gone by.

 

His father is surely up by now, if he’s lucky he’ll get in as the old man’s taking a shower.

 

He concludes the visit with a kiss to his mother’s name and promises that he and Scott will stop by within the coming week.

 

The leaves of The Nemeton flutter in response, and he shoots the tree a quick grin before rising to his knees.

 

He parts with a final thanks, one that comes in the form of a boost to the surrounding flora.

 

As he exits the forest, the tangling web of trees and vines part to clear his path.

 

Familiar fauna curl around his shoulders and nuzzle his cheeks in greeting, always happy to see the boy they’ve watched and protected since his days as a wobbling, too curious tot.

 

He’s at the mouth of the forest, basking in the emerging warmth of the high rising sun when a pitiful mewl halts his steps.

 

He cocks his head to the side and wills the owl resting on his shoulder to share its natural abilities, temporarily gifting him with enhanced hearing and sight.

 

The omega follows the sound a few feet to the left and what he finds softens his resolve immensely.

 

He lowers the instinctive defenses of his magic and crouches ‘till he’s eye level with the figure.

 

The [wolf pup](http://cfile10.uf.tistory.com/image/135255444F8FAB010A30E8) is trembling, small enough to fit into Stiles’ palm and he immediately scoops it up, amplifying his omega pheromones to put it at ease.

 

He strokes the dirt laden fur of the animal and murmurs soothing encouragements while his spirit calls upon the forest, inquiring of the pup’s mother.

 

The forest’s inhabitants inform him that the fatherless  pup’s mother died during his birth and Stiles’ heart clenches, stirring a whine from the pup who seems to be bonding with him rapidly.

 

He allows the little wolf to nip at his fingers playfully while he racks his brain to formulate a plan.

 

He confirms the pup’s gender with a quick check, and then repositions him to lay tucked closer to his chest.

 

Turning the little wolf over to the vet is out of the question, the likelihood of anyone adopting a baby wolf  is a bleak possibility at best and his heart already mourns the thought of his pup being put down.

 

His pup.

 

That settles it then.

 

The little wolf is a Stilinski now, the only logical conclusion as far as Stiles is concerned.

 

If his father finds fault he'll remind him of Celia's insistence on him claiming a familiar.

 

Stiles hooks his hands under the pup’s two front paws and brings him closer so that they’re face to face, he wants to coo at the sight of him, and actually does when the baby leans forward to lick at his nose.

He presses their foreheads together and the little wolf goes cross-eyed at the proximity.

 

Stiles huffs out a laugh before beginning to chant.

 

He reaches his spark toward the wild flare of the pup’s essence and asks if he would accept Stiles as his shield and master.

 

The pup yips in agreement and the flare of the master-familiar bond thrums to life.

 

When Stiles separates their foreheads his sigil is etched into the fur at the crown of the babe’s head.

  
“Alright, Lucan, let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

 He makes it halfway up the stairs before [his father](http://67.media.tumblr.com/fa2e6e6bcab70cbc2a217f1a636ecfcb/tumblr_n0akf96tCI1sciw80o4_250.gif) catches him, “Care to explain why you’re naked, Gen?”

 

The Sheriff’s eyes flick down to the vibrating bundle in his son’s arms and if possible, his brows furrow closer together,

  
“Is that a wolf?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I look forward to hearing your thoughts. 
> 
> Feel free to ask me any questions, especially if you felt something was unclear.


	4. Longing Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of this chapter will be posted tomorrow (within the next twelve hours or so), its of a different tone so I felt that breaking it up was necessary to maintain the effect of the first.  
> Thank you all so much for the comments, kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks, your support is greatly appreciated and so surprising, I've gone back and responded to all of your comments and I'll continue doing so as the fic continues on, thanks again and please enjoy, can't wait to hear from you!

**Flashback (July 9th 2014; begins at 7:30 am)**

Derek's POV

The water’s gone tepid now, a far cry from the scorching heat that pelted down upon him when he first entered.

 

His palms are flat, human , against the marbled tiles of the shower interior, claws finally retracting and taking with them the last of his dizziness and nausea.  

 

He sticks his head under the spray once more, eyes closed, as the salt of his tears swirl down the drain, mixing with the Argan suds of his shampoo.

 

Dressing happens in a daze, a ratty pair of sweatpants and thread-bare henley providing enough comfort to make his wolf settle.

 

When he arrives in the kitchen, [his mother](https://jjshep8.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/talia-hale.jpg) is settled at the island, awaiting his presence with a soft smile and two steaming mugs settled in front of her.

 

A cursory sniff tells him they hold his abuela’s [peppermint hot chocolate](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/peppermint-hot-chocolate-recipe.html); the recommended cure for any ailment.

 

His mouth ticks up at the corners and he strides over to wrap his arms around the older woman, grateful to have her as not only his mother, but his alpha as well.

 

She cradles his head in the crook of her neck, rumbling deep in her chest, soothing him as she did when he was younger.

 

“Tell me, what pains you, mijo?”

 

Her voice is soft but stern, lacking the intensity of an alpha command but still heavy with motherly insistence.

 

Derek’s grip tightens as he swallows down a whine.

 

How does he even begin?

 

His head feels hot and stuffy at the thought, Derek imagines it’s what a human flu feels like.

 

Talia places a calming grip on the back of his neck and he takes a moment to allow the jasmine tinged lull of her scent to wash over him.

 

“I met my mate last night.” He croaks out after she releases him.

 

His mother’s arching brow is the only sign of her surprise and she motions for him to occupy the empty seat in front of her, urging him to continue on.

 

“I’m not sure how but we dream bonded, he’s powerful, mom, I could feel it under my skin.”

 

His expression glazes over at the memory, eyes losing focus; Talia grips his hand in hers, bringing him back to the present.

 

“What’s he like, chiquito?”

 

Derek clears his throat, pondering the question as his ears and cheeks begin to heat up.

 

Talia smothers a laugh, unused to seeing her only son so smitten.

 

“He’s perfect-beautiful, ma, like an angel-he’s got really pale skin ,that glows like the moon and his freckles, they’re like constellations,”

 

His voice is feather-light, painted with longing as he continues.

 

“He has these pink cupid’s bow lips and the cutest little button nose, its upturned and balances perfectly with the height of his cheekbones, and his eyes mom-they’re something out of a fantasy, like pools of honey-”

 

The Alpha cuts himself off with a groan, bending his neck to smack his head on the kitchen island repeatedly.

 

He’s so screwed.

 

Talia halts his attempt at self induced brain damage by tugging on his ear.

 

“He sounds delightful, mi amor, why so glum?”

 

Derek lifts his head slowly, incredulity clear on his face.

 

“You know why, mother. I don’t deserve a mate, not after what’s happened-I can’t do that to him, I won’t .”

 

The grip on his ear is back, tighter this time and he whines at the feeling.

 

“Mom, c’mon-”

 

She holds a hand out, silencing him.

 

“I don’t want to hear it, mijo, you can’t go on like this, we , can’t go on like this, watching you punish yourself, you’re wasting away…”

 

Talia paused, smoothing out the sudden pain in her expression before resuming.

 

“When you told us you were moving back home we were ecstatic, we’ve all missed you and we’d hoped that this was your way of saying you were ready, we didn’t expect wedding bells and baby showers-we still don’t- but we thought you were  ready to try, that you’d let someone in again.”

 

Her eyes flick over to the adjoining wall, scanning the snapshots of their family through the years.

 

The change in Derek is obvious, his smile growing colder and colder as time passes.

 

“I know you’re not happy, Derek.” She silences him with a look when he attempts to protest.

 

“You’re content, proud of the work you do, grateful that it allows you to provide for us as well, but there’s a dimness in your eyes, I see it when you watch Alden and Laura, you’re happy for them of course, but I know your heart aches for what you think you’ll never have.”

 

She reaches forward to cup his face in her hands, irises blooming red as she forces their gazes to meet.

 

“I can’t allow you to go on like this, Derek, it’s killing you and I cannot have the death of my beta on my conscience.”

 

He’s in shock, wide eyed and mouth slack as he holds his mother’s gaze.

 

Clearly his facade was not as ironclad as he’d originally thought.

 

He sighs, turning his head so he can nuzzle into her grip.

 

“I’ll try, mamá, he’s worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's fluent in Spanish in canon, so why shouldn't he be in fic? All of the Hales speak both English and Spanish in this verse, except for Laura who also knows Mandarin because she's a badass.  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Longing Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have it, the second half of the chapter, I hope you all enjoy!

**Flashback (July 9th 2014; begins at 11:45 am)**

Stiles' POV

_“_ Alright, Luc, how about we grab a bite to eat?”

 

The pup has been cleaned and [ collared ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/a9/0f/12/a90f12d305d284ff7a477ca7b0919851.jpg) , much to his father’s dismay , and now rests on Stiles’ bed, gnawing the loose threads of his comforter.

 

After attempting to tame the rat’s nest atop his head, the young spark sighed in defeat, tossing a [ bright red beanie ](http://data.whicdn.com/images/66674500/original.gif) on over it instead.

 

He spies Lucan eyeing the garment with interest and makes a mental note to purchase one for him.

With little effort, he shoots a quick text to Lydia, asking that she email him the site she obtains Prada’s outfits from.

 

He untangles the pup from the woolen heap that encases him and settles the familiar on his shoulder, grinning when the babe nuzzles against his cheek.

 

A quick check of both the house and the wards that protect it are his final act and soon they’re hopping into his jeep.

 

He climbs over to the driver’s side, settling Lucan into the passenger with the horizontal strap of the seat belt holding him safe.

 

The puppy immediately begins to whine.

 

“I’m sorry, bud, you know I’d rather hold you but I can’t, it’s not safe for you while I’m driving, it’s my job to protect you and being in a moving vehicle makes it that much harder.”

 

The puppy huffs as if to say, ‘[ Sure, Jan ](http://67.media.tumblr.com/69c30103ddb5982077870a8a0bcc89ec/tumblr_nimk8a4sij1skru9ro1_500.gif)’, shooting a wave of petulance through their bond.

 

He looks every bit of an [ angry teddy bear ](http://cuteimages.net/data/2015/11/puppy-wolf-dogs-cuteimages.net.jpg)  if Stiles is being honest, and he bites the inside of his cheek to dissuade his laughter.

 

“I’ll make it up to you, we’re stopping at the diner on fifth, it’s the old man’s favorite, their burgers are the best around, what do you say I get  a whole half pound of beef, just for you?”

 

Lucan yips in response, wiggling in his seat excitedly, he gives the bond an impatient nudge, startling a laugh out of his master.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been The Sheriff of Beacon Hills since you were eight, Stiles. That kind of experience means I’m immune to bribes.”

 

The omega arched a challenging brow at his father before dangling the take out bag closer, allowing the scents of grilled meat, grease, and cheese to seduce him.

 

It was everything the Sheriff wanted and none of what Stiles and Scott allowed him to have.

 

He may or may not have lunged for the bag.

 

Stiles let go of it easily, smirking as his father’s eyes crossed at the sight of his favorite double stacked cheeseburger (on a wheat bun of course, he was trying to curry favor not send the older man to an early grave).

 

Smug in his victory, Stiles took out his own lunch, a traditional cheeseburger with a side of onion rings, and began tucking in.

 

When he slid over a low fat vanilla shake, John let out a groan.

 

“You’re a horrible person.”

 

Stiles grinned, wicked and sharp, “I know, keeps me up at night.”

 

The burger clutched in the Sheriff’s grip is likely to be the only thing stopping him from cuffing his youngest son upside the head.

 

“Alright, Genim, you can keep him-”

 

“Lucan.” Stiles corrects, widening his eyes and fluttering his lashes when the Sheriff looks as though he’s ready to reconsider.

 

The pup upon hearing his name, tears his gaze away from the burger in front of him, pinning John with an imploring look.

 

“Right,” he drawls, after pulling his eyes away from the (admittedly adorable) pitiful look.

 

“You can keep, Lucan . I called [ Celia ](https://67.media.tumblr.com/0a45e35a9016afbc7a9bc15db33c70db/tumblr_o6zf22e4s41vu07loo4_250.gif) and she confirmed that having a familiar is imperative to a spark of your caliber,”

 

Stiles was practically vibrating with excitement, mouthing sloppy thank you’s around his onion rings.

 

The Sheriff shakes his head, urging the boy to calm down and chew before he pulled something.

 

“He’s still a big responsibility, Gen, like any other pet, if you slack on your duties I’m shipping him off to Deaton’s.”

 

Stiles’ heart clenched at the thought and he rushed to assure his father to the contrary.

 

“I’ll be a model pet owner and master, daddio, Luc’s a total gem, the perfect grandchild.”

 

The Sheriff’s eyes soften at that and he tilts his head to regard the pup, snorting as he notices the babe’s attempts to lick all traces of hamburger off of the floor around him.

 

“He’s a cute little thing, that’s for sure.”

 

“Takes after his daddy,” Stiles responds, chest puffed out with pride.

 

His father actually does clock him upside the head that time, cheese burger be damned.

 

* * *

 John's POV

 

“M’gonna go get Lucan some water, you need anything, pops?”

 

The Sheriff shoves the last of his burger into his mouth with a shake of his head.

 

“Just some napkins, Gen, thanks.”

 

Stiles parts with an affirmative nod, closing the door shut softly behind him.

 

John begins straightening up his desk and surrounding area, stroking Lucan behind the ears when the pup peers up at him inquiringly.

 

The little wolf yips, licking at John’s wrist and urging the older man to pick him up.

 

The Sheriff acquiesces, dropping a kiss to the babe’s muzzle before he begins to speak,

 

“Keep this between us, pup, but I was gonna let him keep you anyway. You’ll be good for him...he may not say it but he’s lonely, Scott sees it too. You help with that, just promise me that you’ll look out for eachother.”

 

Lucan whines and licks at the Sheriff’s wrist again, this time in soothing, responding to the sadness in the alpha’s tone.

 

A knock on the door breaks the moment and John gently deposits Lucan on his desk, grinning when the pup immediately busies himself with the fluorescent pink stress ball Scott gifted him last Christmas.

 

“Enter.” He says, reverting back to his usual authoritative timber.

 

The door opens and in walks[ a man ](http://67.media.tumblr.com/1ed1c81ebddf0ed14c27eb92538dae91/tumblr_n2z9moOITx1slp62eo2_250.gif) with what appear to be the most expressive brows this town’s ever seen.

 

He’s young, early twenties, John's mind supplies, with cropped dark hair, the beginnings of a full beard and bright green eyes.

 

The eyes are what put John at a pause and his own brows furrow as he attempts to deduce why they seem so familiar.

 

“What can I do for you Mister…?”

 

The younger man glides closer to the desk, offering  the Sheriff a tentative smile as he extends his hand for a shake.

  
“Hale, Derek Hale. I’d prefer if you called me Derek though, Mr.Hale was my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff is totally a secret softie, I love it  
> Derek and Stiles meet next chapter (unless my muse has other ideas), its about to go down  
> Thank you all for reading and your continued support!


	6. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toothpaste frosting, awkwardness galore, and a steamy meeting awaits you this chapter; hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments, kudos, and subs, you guys were my motivation and driving force as I cried over my midterms, I'll be updating once a week from here out, on Wednesday or Thursday depending on my schedule.
> 
> I look forward to hearing from you guys, have a great week and I'll see ya soon (:

**Flashback (July 9th 2014; begins at 12:07 pm)**

John's POV

“Well I’ll be damned, c’mere son.”

 

John rises from his perch behind the worn mahogany of his desk and spreads his arms wide, gesturing for the younger man to step forward into his embrace.

 

Derek pauses for a moment, un-weary but not quite expecting such a warm welcome; the past six years of isolation in New York have almost completely erased his social aptitude.  

 

The elder quirks a brow, lips rising at the corners and gestures again, urging him forward.

 

The gentle teasing quells any lingering trepidation and Derek shakes off his self-imposed stupor.

 

He closes the remaining gap between them and settles his arms around the Sheriff’s shoulders, tilting his head so that he can both scent and be scented in return.

 

The tightness in his shoulders alleviates as the seconds pass by and he can feel the crease between his brows smoothing out; there really is no better person to re-acclimate him with small town affection than the Sheriff.

 

John gives him a few playful claps on the back as they part, his professional veil slipping once more.

 

“How’d the Big Apple treat ya? Happy to be back?” The Sheriff’s settled back into his chair, posture relaxed as he strokes Lucan behind the ears, distracting the curious pup.

 

“ Loud," Derek begins with a smirk.

 

“Crowded, but still solitary, it’s easy to lose yourself amongst all those people...don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the experience, balancing school and acclimating to city life was a useful challenge; I learned to depend on myself and lead unselfishly...but New York isn’t home, Beacon is, this town and its people have been kind to us, to me, and it’s high time I returned the favor.”

 

There’s a resolute quality to Derek’s tone, an innocent conviction that has the Sheriff smiling once more.

 

“We’re happy to have you back, son. Your mother especially, she’s been planning a welcome home party with Melissa for the last few weeks,”

 

John pauses mid sentence, eyes widening dramatically before he schools his features into a deliberate calmness, “But of course, you didn’t hear that from me.”

 

Derek huffs out a laugh, biting his lip as he tries to quell the curving of his lips, “Secret’s safe with me, sir.”

 

A knock raps at the door and John straightens up, calling out a gruff, “Come in."

 

The Sheriff’s secretary, a tall slender woman by the name of [Caroline](http://orig12.deviantart.net/a6ef/f/2014/007/6/1/caroline_forbes_by_shatteredangelx-d718jjy.gif), walks in, a sheepish smile on her blushing face, “M’sorry to interrupt you, sir,” Her gaze flicks over to Derek and her reddened visage deepens even further, “You too, Mr.Hale, but Mayor Whittemore is requesting your presence in his office, he says it’ll only take twenty minutes.”

 

John’s brows raise at her flustered state but he refrains from comment, no use in pestering the poor girl, “Thank you, Carrie, give him a call for me and let him know I’ll be right over, I just need to chat with Derek some more.”

 

The blonde nods, stammering out a goodbye as she narrowly avoids the doorpost in her haste to exit.

 

John snorts, shaking his head as he refocuses his attention toward the now blushing alpha in front of him, “Well, that was interesting, we don’t really get too many good lookin’ city fellas like yourself around here, must’ve thrown Caroline for a loop.”

 

Derek does his best dying fish impression before settling on a tentative smile, although realistically the end result is more of a grimace.

 

“I’m only messin’ with you, son, Caroline’s harmless, she can barely look you in the eye, so unless you make a move on her, you should be just fine. Now, I’m gonna head on down to Town Hall and talk with Whittemore, while I’m there, I’ll let him know you’re here and have him give me the paperwork so we can start recruiting for Beacon’s branch of the SPF. In your email you said a few members of your unit would be relocating with you, any word on when they should be here?”

 

Derek pulled out his phone, loading up his email as he regarded the Sheriff, “I checked in with them this morning and they should be here by nightfall, it would’ve been sooner but Reyes insisted on turning it into a road trip, sightseeing included.”

 

“Reyes, she’s your behavioral analyst right? She went to school with my youngest, a real firecracker that one, just what we need.” John said, eyes alight with mischief.

 

Derek groaned dramatically, “It’s all fun and games ‘till she switches out the vanilla frosting with toothpaste,” A shudder rips through him, “I haven’t eaten a cupcake since.”

 

John laughs in response, patting Derek on the shoulder sympathetically, “You made a rookie mistake son, and it cost ya.”

 

“I’m never letting her near a kitchen again.” Derek whines.

 

The Sheriff merely raises a brow, “I wish you luck with that one. Whittemore isn’t known to gab so I’ll be back in a half hour at the most, just hang out here so we can go over everything when I get back. My son’s floating around somewhere, I’m sure he can keep you busy.”

 

He gives Derek a parting pat on the shoulder and makes his exit, closing the door behind him as he goes.

 

And then there were two.

 

Without John to occupy him, Lucan is free to inspect the stranger before him.

 

He starts off tentatively, assessing if Derek’s a threat before sniffing at his wrist.

 

Once he’s assured of the were’s intentions he nudges at him, hoping to incite a reaction.

 

Derek smiles down at the curious babe, holding his hand out, palms set up so the little wolf could inhale more of his scent.

 

Lucan snuffled at the skin of Derek’s palm, baring his teeth playfully as he nipped at the skin.

 

The alpha chuckles, scooping the pup up and raising him ‘till they’re eye to eye.

 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? That’s a pretty cool collar you got there, I’m more inclined to Green Lantern myself but Batman is definitely top three. What’s your name, pup? I’d check your tag but my Russian’s pretty weak.”

 

* * *

 Derek's POV

 Oak, vanilla, cinnamon; **magic**.

 

The amalgamation of scents is potent, a compelling force free of the dilution of the dream state.

 

He's on his feet before the boy even opens his mouth.

 

The flurry of movement weakens his hold and Lucan yips, disgruntled at the thought of being dropped, accidentally or otherwise.

 

 “It’s Polish actually, his name’s Lucan, he’s my familiar.”

 

The alpha doesn’t even register resting the pup on John’s desk, within moments he’s crossed the room, itching to touch as he drinks in the sight of the boy before him.

 

His mate reaches out, elegant fingers ghosting along the sturdy curve of his jaw, “What took you so long, alpha?”

 

This interaction is a ghost of their shared dream, the very moment when his mate first touched his skin; digits like fire, searing a permanent connection.

 

A primal call.

 

The inquiry itself is the catalyst, snapping the last of Derek’s threadbare control and forcing a rumbling growl up and out of his throat.

 

He closes the remaining space between them, nudging his mate’s legs apart so that he may stand in the vacancy created.

 

A startled moan escapes the boy’s throat and Derek grins, enjoying the spiced tinge that fragrances his scent as his arousal amplifies.

 

The spark’s hands are everywhere, reverently sliding along Derek’s shoulders, cupping his ass, and tangling in his hair.

 

Derek yields to the ministrations without protest, just as eager to have his mate’s hands on his skin.

 

Patience however, has never been his strong suit, they'll have time for careful explorations later, forever if Derek has anything to say about it, but now he needs more.

 

He needs copper and oak; scarlet heat, not enough for a full claim, but just a taste, the shadow of a mark; a warning to others foolish enough to encroach upon what is his.

 

He trails the tip of his nose from the valley of his mate’s collarbones to behind his ear, tongue darting out to savor the freckles he finds there.

 

Stiles bucks into the touch, breath coming out in a hiss when Derek grips his wrists in his own, halting his earlier exploration and leaving him at the older man’s mercy.

 

“My turn now, let go, let me give you what you need.”

 

The young mage loosens his posture, whining when Derek tightens his grip on his bound hands, not harsh enough to hurt or bruise the delicate skin, but a reminder, no, a promise, grounding him in the now.

 

Derek uses his free hand to thumb at the full pout of Stiles’ bottom lip, groaning when the younger man flicks his tongue at the digit, moist heat tickling at his salted flesh.

 

“Baby,” he begins, hoarse with arousal, “If I do anything you don’t like, anything at all, tell me and I’ll stop, I take care of what's mine, I want you to enjoy this.”

His statement is punctuated by an ocular flash that causes his mate's aureate pools to glow, responding to his own mercurial vermilion. 

 

The possessive declaration fuels Stiles' biological inclination to belong, to be cared for and protected by his alpha and he crowds closer before verbalizing his consent.

 

“Yes, alpha, please...”

 

Derek’s breath is hot against his skin, a wet tease, as he seals his mouth over the vein dancing beneath.

 

He sucks at the littered canvas of his mate’s scrag, biting down 'till flesh gives way to liquid and rutting forward as the taste clouds his palate.

 

The spark bucks in return, moaning when their crotches align; Derek squeezes at his wrists, a silent command that he keep still and with a final lick, retreats from the rapidly blooming evidence of his claim to kiss along his beloved’s jaw.

 

“Patience, little one,” he huffs out, now teething at Stiles’ profile to calm him.

 

His mate lets out a huff of his own, eyes narrowing indignantly, “M’not that little, we can’t all be big beefy alphas, you know.”

 

Derek smirks at that, angling even closer so their lips brush as he speaks, “And m’not that beefy either, wasn’t teasing, you’re perfect.”

 

Stiles hues carmine once more, lulled by the sincerity in his mate’s gaze; before he can form a retort, Derek covers his mouth with his own, lips soft and insistent as they kiss.

 

He can feel the boy’s pulse calming beneath the flex of his grip and finally releases his hold, using the newly freed hand to stroke at the skin along the raised arch of his cheekbones.

 

He kitten licks at the crease of Stiles’ lips, coaxing his mouth open so his tongue can travel inside.

 

Having finally registered the release of wrists, his mate immediately busies himself with un-tucking Derek’s shirt from his pants, greedily seeking out the solid flesh beneath.

 

Derek breaks the kiss, sighing when he feels the cool caress of the boy’s fingers dipping into the slopes of his abs.  

 

Now he’s the one arching gratefully, savoring the careful touches and mentally willing the boy to never cease.

 

* * *

 

 

They don’t even hear the door open, least of all the footsteps marching closer, they’re wrapped up in one another, so focused that Lucan’s warning yips are dull in the background.

 

A cough startles them and they pull apart guiltily, Stiles’ fingers still resting against Derek’s abdomen.

 

John crosses his arms at the sight, brows climbing higher and higher as he surveys the scene, his smile is wry as he speaks,

 

“Looks like Caroline’s out of luck after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly me too Caroline, me too.


	7. Into Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves, I'm back again, as promised. This was going in a completely different direction but these two perverts had other ideas, so here you have shameless porn, I've gone and updated the tags as well as the last chapter so feel free to give those a look, I'll be updating again tomorrow with the original plan for this chapter, it should clear up all of the questions about Lucan (poor thing has these two horny toads for parents), now without further ado I give you kinky werewolf sex. Blame my muse.

**Dream (July 12th 2014; 10:22 pm)**

Stiles' POV

_“Has Luc forgiven us yet?”_

_Stiles twists his neck slightly, angling his gaze upward to eye his mate as he approaches._

_“You’re late.” He responds, avoiding Derek’s question entirely._

_The omega retracts his attention, facing forward once more to spare a brief glance at his rippling reflection before resuming his previous position._

_The surrounding lake funnels into a streaming waterfall, reflecting vivid hues of aqua and emerald green as the water’s rush creates a soothing tempo._

_Stiles rests on its bank, eyes now closed, elbows shakily supporting his weight._

_He's been within this realm for twenty minutes now, meditating in Derek’s absence, hoping to distract himself from the wait._

_The alpha pauses, taking in the tight lines of Stiles’ form; his mouth is creased down at the corners, amber eyes flickering behind the lightly veined sheath of his lids, and his knuckles are paler than usual, almost white as his fingers flex at his sides._

_When the omega opens his eyes again, Derek is mere inches away, his irises are almost startling up close, the hues present are amplified, enhanced by the lushness of their surroundings._

_Derek's hovering over him, legs bracketing his own, palms flat on the ground, a touch away from complete unison._

_He frees a hand to cup Stiles’ jaw, easing his discomfort with a grounding stroke._

_“I apologize, little one, it wasn’t my intent to keep you waiting, but I've found it hard to sleep, my wolf’s been restless, constantly pacing, howling for you.” Derek murmurs, frowning as his mate shudders in his grasp._

_Pale fingers wrap around his wrist, clutching tightly, afraid to let go._

_“I haven't been faring much better myself, it's only Tuesday and I've overpollenated the preserve, nearly flooded the whole town with those damn uncontrollable rain storms, and I’ve lost Celia’s grimoire-you haven't seen her angry, she’s gonna kill me, Derek, I refuse to die a virgin!” Stiles exclaims, flopping backward and bringing Derek with him._

_They sprawl out with a grunt and huff respectively, bodies now aligned from head to toe._

_Stiles whines in frustration, ceasing almost immediately when Derek presses his nose beneath the curve of his neck._

_“Relax,” he intones, “I’m here now.”_

_He maps out a path along Stiles’ skin, soothing him with gentle passes of his tongue, warm and wet as he suctions the skin._

_Stiles mewls quietly, freeing his leg from it’s position beneath his mate so that he can wrap it around the man’s hips, pressing downward to grind them together._

_Derek meets his thrust with a hiss, arching into the prone form beneath him, heat suffusing his body as their crotches meet._

_Stiles tilts his head for a kiss, eagerly accepting Derek’s proffered lips, sucking the flesh into his mouth and releasing it with a bite, eyes glowing gold as he spies their swollen state._

_Derek slides a hand between them, unzipping Stiles’ fly and then his own before slipping his hand into the slit of his briefs and grasping his hardened length in his palm._

_Stiles’ slit is dripping pre cum, practically oozing with it and Derek gathers it up gratefully, slathering it along his length to ease ministrations._

_The omega whimpers, tongue darting out to lick at Derek’s lips, blind in his pleasure._

_“Gonna make you feel so good, just lay back for me, sweet one.”_

_Stiles goes lax in his hold, easily succumbing to passivity as Derek brings him closer to release._

_“God, Stiles, the way you smell, I just wanna-I need...” Derek trails off, latching onto Stiles’ neck once more, this time he bites down, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to hold, sharp teeth keeping the boy rooted in one spot._

_He tightens his grip on Stiles’ cock, increasing his pace as he thumbs at the head, tracing the vein beneath it before stroking the slit._

_Another stream of pre cum coats his fingers and he switches hands, offering the cum covered digits to Stiles’ awaiting mouth, and using the others to fondle at his heavy sac._

_Stiles sucks the fingers into his mouth, moaning wantonly around the skin; he licks from the tips to the webbing, being sure to massage Derek’s knuckles with his tongue, craving the weight of the alpha’s dick in his mouth._

_Derek presses his fingers down against the omega’s tongue in response as if sensing his thoughts, and removes his attention from Stiles’ sac to his hole, circling the rim in a tease._

_He retrieves his hand from the boy’s mouth and brings it down to probe at his hole, his other hand is now clutching the flesh of Stiles’ pert ass, lifting a cheek so his view is unobstructed._

_Stiles brings his own fingers to his mouth, needing something to distract him as Derek takes him apart._

_“Wish you could see yourself right now little one, so eager for me, ready to be filled, is that what you need, baby, need me to fill you up?”_

_The omega moans around the fingers in his mouth, saliva pooling at the corners as he tries to speak._

_“Please, alpha, need your cum, want you inside, want your pups...” Stiles forces out, words garbled as he fumbles for breath._

_Derek releases a cross between a snarl and a moan, before working his finger past the tight ring of muscle guarding Stiles’ hole and pushing it in deep, crooking the digit in search of the boy’s prostate._

_Within moments he’s caressing the knobbed bundle, stroking the nerves as Stiles arches into him._

_“That's it baby, open up for me, gonna get you ready, gonna knot you, stuff you full ‘till you’re dripping with it.”_

_He adds a second finger, crooking it to join the first as he continues to rasp against Stiles’ skin._

_“Would you like that, little one?” He questions, “Want me to breed you? Knot you and fill you up ‘till you're ripe with my seed, pretty little tits plump and leaking as I stuff you full.”_

_Stiles licks at any skin he can reach, tonguing at Derek’s lips, up and over his stubbled cheeks, sucking and biting as his orgasm builds._

_“Gonna get you pregnant, baby, knot you over and over ‘till it takes, gonna plug you up, keep it locked inside, wanna knot that cute little mouth too, fill your throat ‘till you reek of me, s’that what you want, little one, want everyone to know that you're mine?”_

_The omega gasps out a yes, rocking down on the fingers inside of him, “Want it all, alpha, w-want you to get me pregnant, want to be full, leaking your cum, want you to lick it out of me so you can pump more in, need your knot, alpha, please.”_

_Derek growls, canines extending as his irises bloom red, “Cum for me, little one, cum and I'll give you what you need.”_

_He twists his fingers in deeper, pumping them once, twice, before Stiles arches up, eyes glowing as he succumbs to his orgasm._

_His spark manifests in a burst, rippling the greenery beneath them in a quake that peters out at the tail end of the mage’s release._

_Stiles lays there, sex drunk and panting as Derek uses his cum covered hand to free himself from his briefs._

_He gives his length a few pulls to take the edge off before using his free hand to ruck up Stiles’ shirt and pull the boy’s underwear down, exposing his spent cock to Derek’s eager eyes._

_The omega whimpers, eyeing Derek’s dick hungrily, eager to taste, “Gonna cum on me, alpha? Want it, wanna taste, show me I'm yours.”_

_Derek’s breathing is ragged, harsh as he fists his cock, orgasm curling at the base of his spine._

_Stiles reaches a hand out to swipe at the head and Derek loses it, growling as he paints Stiles’ skin with his cum._

_Stiles collects the fluid gratefully, bringing it up to his mouth to taste._

_“Taste so good, alpha…” He pants out, “Gonna give me some more? Need it…”_

* * *

**Reality (July 12th; 11:14 pm)**

Derek's POV

He’s drowning before he can oblige, claws extending as he gasps for breath.

 

When he opens his eyes, he's drenched and Cora’s hovering over him with an (now) empty glass, free hand on her hip and Hale scowl firmly in place.

 

He's tempted to smack it out of her hands.

 

“I love you, really, but it's practically midnight and there are certain noises I should never hear my brother make.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cora, she did NOT need an intimate knowledge of Stiles' anatomy. Smh, thanks, Derek.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos, comments, and subs! Can't wait to hear from you all!


	8. Prelude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second update!  
> This one is a bit of a filler but definitely necessary, Lucan gets his apology and Celia makes her first physical appearance, providing Stiles with some much needed information. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Flashback (August 1st 2014)**

 

Stiles' POV

“You can’t stay mad at me forever you know.” The omega says, wringing his fingers together nervously as he watches the pup devour the rib-eye he set before him.

  


Lucan merely huffs, not even pausing in his chewing; Stiles takes that as I can sure as hell try.

The brunette squats down ‘till he’s eye level with his familiar, tentatively reaching out to scratch him behind the ears.

Luc allows the touch and Stiles sighs in relief, continuing his movements as he begins to speak, “I really am sorry, pup, I didn’t mean to get so carried away, I just, you saw him, he’s perfect and he’s mine and I’ve been waiting so long for this, for him…” Stiles trails off on a murmur, eyeing the wolf imploringly.

Lucan whines at the sight, bond thrumming with the need to comfort the man.

Puppy dog eyes? Really? Doesn’t his master know that that’s _his_ thing?

The familiar licks his chops before retracting himself from his meal; within seconds he’s balancing his two front paws on Stiles’ bent knees, licking at the inside of his wrist.

Stiles grins, relieved to be forgiven, and cradles the pup in his arms, dropping a kiss to his sigil, “Derek’s my mate, but you’re my pup, you’re important me too and I won’t subject your innocent little eyes to a scene like that ever again, promise.” He punctuates his statement by crossing his fingers over his heart, dissolving into laughter when Lucan levels him with a disbelieving look.

I’ll believe it when I _don’t_ see it, dominus. The pup communicates, transmitting the statement through their bond.

 

* * *

 

  
“Ah, the lovely Stiles, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The mage rolls his eyes, accustomed to this song and dance, as he leans in to press a greeting kiss to [Peter](https://67.media.tumblr.com/0efd8092e8de03f042e7f209bdc454f7/tumblr_o5g9nmEFfh1vo8gi0o1_500.gif)’s cheek.

“You flatter me so, creeper wolf.”

The beta merely leers, moving aside so that Stiles can maneuver his way in.

“Not so loud with the endearments, little red, the wife might hear.” Peter grins, eyes flickering with mirth as he teases.

As if on cue, [Celia](http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/1170387/bonnie-bennett-and-gemstone-vee-earrings-by-peggy-li-creations-gallery.jpg) walks in from the veranda, removing her sunglasses and leveling her mate with a playfully disapproving stare.

“I hear everything, dear, you should know that by now.” She winks at Stiles and gestures him forward, pulling him into a motherly embrace.

“I take it you’re here because you’ve managed to find my grimoire, or has Peter finally lured you in with his dazzling conversational skills?” The witch questions, lips ticked up into a smirk.

Stiles pulls away to reach into his messenger bag, rummaging around until his fingers grasp onto time worn leather.

He waves the grimoire slightly, expression sly as he takes in the relief in Celia’s eyes.

“It was either I find it or you cause me graphic bodily harm, location spells do wonders for the absent mind.”

Celia huffs out a laugh, accepting the journal from his outstretched hand, brow raised sardonically, “It wouldn't have been that bad, at the very most I would've made off with an arm, maybe a finger or two, you are my favorite after all.”

Peter gasps out a wounded noise, pouting exaggeratedly as he walks over to stand behind his wife.

He drapes himself across her back, arms snaking out to rest around her middle, and presses his nose against the slim column of her throat inhaling her scent with a pleased hum.

“I thought I was your favorite, Cel.” Peter mumbles out, smirking when he hears Stiles mimic gagging in the background.

The witch uses her free hand to pat her mate on the head, pausing to run her fingers through his tawny strands, “Of course you are, love.” She says, underlying sincerity betraying the lightness of her tone.

She turns around in Peter’s grip, pressing a sound kiss to his lips before untangling their bodies, “I've got an apprentice to train and you’ve got papers to grade, we’ll be in the greenhouse if you need us.”

Peter sighs dramatically, lips twisting as he's reminded of the mountainous stack that awaits him in the study.

“Why I willingly choose to wade through the dredges of undergraduate education is one of life’s greatest mysteries.” He gripes, forehead creasing in the center.

Celia strokes his cheek in faux sympathy, “Save it for the memoir, babe.”

 

* * *

 

“Focus, Genim, I know you can do this, it's just like the storms, centralize your intent on your palm, focus your energy there and visualize your result.”

Stiles groans out his frustration, freckled face pink with exertion, “The storms were different, Cel! I didn't even know I was doing it, my damn spark has been on the fritz!”

Celia reaches an arm out to steady him, voice soothing as she attempts to calm the young omega, “It's because you've been separated from your mate, like wolves, we too need anchors, without them our magic is resistant to our control, free to manifest in harmful ways.”

She beckons Lucan forward, prying the pup away from the roses he was investigating.

“Once you solidify your bond with Derek, you’ll be less prone to incident, your spark will fully embrace your chosen anchor and stabilize, restoring your control and boosting its power all in one go,” She pauses momentarily, as if mulling something over, “Although, the boost has more to do with your combined lineage and Derek’s alpha orientation than anything else.”

“You both come from strong bloodlines, your ancestors have long since protected and fueled these lands, enlivening the wildlife and ensuring peace, Derek's have done much of the same; the Hales are a prestigious pack, one that dates back to the emergence of werewolves, they’ve historically tasked themselves with policing the supernatural, maintaining the balance between humans and the inclined. Derek himself is an alpha, and is likely to head his own pack one day, this is also significant. Now, either of these would have led to a substantial increase in power, but together and on top of your pre existing potential, well, let's just say I wasn't only playing favorites when I advocated for Lucan.”

The pup settles in between the pair, facing Stiles as Celia instructs.

“Think of Lucan as a vessel, a conduit for the power that’s spasming within you, I want you to channel all of the excess energy into him, he’ll act as your anchor in lieu of Derek, for the time being.”

Stiles frowns at the thought, Lucan’s only a pup, he’s not sure his body can handle such a task.

“It's not going to harm him, when you contracted him as your familiar you gave him not only your sigil, but a thread of your power as well, he’s an extension of you, whatever you can handle, he can, and if the situation calls for it, even more.” She says, sensing his trepidation.

Stiles nods, releasing a calming breath before crouching in front of his familiar.

He tosses the pup a gentle smile before holding his head between his hands, gently gripping his fur as he begins to chant.

Lucan goes stiff in his grip, etched sigil glowing as he accepts the power flowing through their bond.

Stiles eyes shine gold in response, irises appearing to expand ‘till the whites are present no more, vision yielding to a stunning gleam.

He rises to his feet, arms outstretched up and above his head as he summons forth a darkened cloud.

The cloud casts a shadow across the greenhouse, extending along its roof.

He flicks his wrist and in an instant the cloud has dispersed, settling on top of a row of gardenias.

Stiles forms his hands into fists and squeezes, yielding the clouds to unleash a controlled spray, nourishing the flowers beneath.

He allows the shower to continue for a few minutes before bringing it to a halt with a snap; another flick of his wrist evaporates the cloud entirely and light floods back into the greenhouse, bouncing off the dripping leaves.

Celia rushes forward, wrapping him into a hug, “I knew you could do it, Gen, that was brilliant!”

He returns the hug gratefully, nuzzling his cheek against her hair before parting.

“And you,” he begins, bending to scoop Lucan into his arms, “you were perfect, baby wolf! An absolute star!”

The pup yips, tail wagging proudly as he bounces in his owner’s hold.

 

* * *

 Peter's POV

A dull knock pulls Peter from his thoughts, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes trained on the papers in front of him.

“Come in, save me from an academic spiral.” He calls out, underlining the fourth geographical inaccuracy within the student’s introduction.

“I see Celia hasn't killed you, yet, mom’s going to be disappointed.” Derek drawls out, mouth twitching as he tampers down a smile.

Peter smirks, turning in his seat to face his nephew, “Still upset about her vase I see, how long will I be punished for an accident?”

Derek regards him with a smirk of his own, brow arched in disbelief, “Chris Argent gave her that vase, you hate Chris Argent, concluding that you’d break it on purpose isn't much of a stretch.”

Peter's face pinches at the mention of the man's name, mouth puckering as if he's tasted something sour, “Who my dear sister chooses to spend her time with is her business, if she wants to rabble around with the town riff raff, well that's none of my concern.”

Derek rolls his eyes, snorting as he walks over to the bookshelf, “No one says riff raff anymore, uncle, this isn't Aladdin.”

Peter rotates his wrist in response, dismissing Derek’s retort as he turned forward to resume grading.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my favorite nephew?”

Derek pulls out a collection of poems, fingers coasting against the engraved spine.

“I'm your only nephew, Uncle Peter.” He replies, eyes scanning over the familiar text.

“Semantics.” Peter intones, red pen stroking along the pages with vigor.

Derek winces in sympathy.

“I'm here to see, Stiles, actually, his session with Cel is almost over so I figured I’d take him out, we haven't managed to see much of one another lately, not consciously anyway.”

Peter hums in thought, “Ah, the dream bond, I heard Stiles mentioning it to Celia, she thinks you two are quite the rare pair.”

Derek settles the book back on the shelf, turning to face his uncle, arms settled across his chest as he regards the man, “And you? What do you think?” He prompts curiously.

The beta turns to face him, slipping off his glasses as he does so, “I think, dearest nephew, that you are indeed a lucky pup, I've sensed greatness in you from birth, dear Stiles can only aide in that endeavor.”

His eyes are warm, softening their glacial blue, even as his lips twist into a smirk, “If I wasn't such a happily mated man you’d have competition on your hands.”

Derek shakes his head, clapping his uncle on the shoulder as he makes his exit, “I’d have liked to see you try.”

 

* * *

 Derek's POV

“Derek!” Stiles exclaims, heart hammering as he exits the green house.

The alpha beams upon seeing him, sharp teeth glinting in the light as Stiles picks up speed.

Derek braces himself for impact, locking his knees as the spark jumps on top of him.

His mate is a welcome weight in his arms and Derek hefts him up higher against him, easing any potential discomfort by settling his hands beneath the omega’s ass, holding him in place.

Stiles tightens his legs around the man’s waist, crossing them behind his lower back and loops his arms around the alpha’s neck, leaning in to press a kiss to the sharp tip of his nose.

“I missed you, alpha.”

Derek sucks in a breath, awed at the vibrant creature in his arms.

“I missed you too, little one.” He murmurs, voice soft and reverent as he regards the spark.

Stiles smacks a kiss on Derek’s lips, quick and sweet, a reward for being so damn cute, “What do you say we get out of here? I'm hungry and we both know I’ll need to be strong if I wanna take your knot.”

“Stiles.” Derek intones, near growling as he feels his dick twitch in response to the boy’s words.

The omega hums in response, completely unrepentant as he mouths at his mate's jaw.

He gives the skin a parting lick before easing his way out of Derek’s arms, he joins their hands once he's flat on the ground, calling out to Lucan as he does so.

“Alright, I'll behave, I think we've scarred Luc enough to last a lifetime.”

Derek squeezes their joined hands softly, brow arched as he addresses his mate, “Nice try, little one, but you’re not getting off that easily. Turnabout's fair play.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look it's Peter! He was a complete bastard in my last fic so I felt that a shift was in order, I love just as creepy but totally harmless Peter. It's a miracle what AU's can do for the soul.
> 
> *dominus is the latin word for master btw
> 
> How many of you caught the hint in the chapter's title?
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting and being all around wonderful!


	9. Contractual Obligations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated so be sure to keep them in mind, the time skips are really starting from here on, I'll be jumping between major points in time now that the plot has kicked in. Once you read the chapter it'll make more sense. Memories are in italics, present day is marked with bold and a line break/cut.

**Flashback (March 2nd 2015)**

Stiles' POV

Slim fingers tug at the pouting skin of his bottom lip, moist and plump from habitual torment.

He’s so fucking bored.

They’ve been at City Hall for the past hour, drafting up individual versions of what in the end will become their mating contract.

Now that all of the paperwork is out of the way, it’s up to the notary to submit it for approval.

The woman, an elderly pixie by the name of Guta (No,not like the cheese), promised a swift return then whizzed away at a monumental two miles per hour, leaving the pair to play the waiting game.

Stiles sighs, right knee bouncing with unchanneled energy; every few seconds he’ll sneak a glance upward, pulse quickening as Derek’s gaze meets his.

He’ll never understand how the werewolf can be so calm, patiently waiting as some mindless bureaucrat transcribes their mutual fondness into one or two pages; single-spaced.

The warmth of Derek’s palm is a welcome distraction; he’s still staring at Stiles, brow arched as if he can read his mind.

The spark huffs, all petulant impatience, eyes widening for maximum puppy dog effect.

His mate shakes his head, squeezing the denim clad cap of his knee before he speaks, “We’re almost done. Patience, little one.” He intones.

Stiles mind travels back to the last time he heard Derek utter those words and a delightful shiver snakes its way up his spine, spiking the natural vanilla of his scent with the spice of cinnamon, it envelopes the room, spreading ‘till it's sweet and thick in the air.

Derek’s eyes flash crimson in response, nostrils flaring as he scents the omega’s arousal, it's potent enough to taste, coating his tongue in a solid sheath of want mate **fuck**.

Stiles bites back a whine, instincts flaring in response to the pheromones his alpha’s releasing.

The metal backed chair Derek’s sitting in is quiet as it slides along the carpeted floor, he’s pushing himself away from the table separating them, legs spreading wide as he does so, arms open in clear invitation.

Stiles scrambles out of his seat, walking around the wooden blockade in quick strides, near catapulting himself into Derek’s embrace once he’s close enough.

The alpha smirks, settling his omega with steady hands, thick fingers reaching out to knead the fleshy swell of his boy’s ass, all under the guise of securing his comfort.

Stiles moans at the feeling, a sweet little sound, all surprise and a touch innocent.

“Settle pet, what’s got you so worked up?” The endearment slips off his tongue, honey sweet; smooth like water.

The spark grinds down, arms tightening their grip on Derek’s shoulders, fingers tugging on the silky hair at the base of his neck, “Isn’t there a rule against asking questions you already know the answer to?”

Derek grins then, wicked and sharp, eyes flashing with something that only spells trouble for Stiles.

The button on his jeans is popped open before he can even articulate a protest and he moans at the feeling of his mate’s fingers against his skin.

Derek’s gone back to kneading his ass like before but now he focuses on pulling Stiles cheeks apart, exposing his hole to cool gusts of air with each pass.

Stiles keens, unhooking his arms so they’re free to hold open the back of his jeans, widening the gap between fabric and skin so his view is unobstructed.

“You planned this, didn’t you? Whined for my knot on purpose ‘cause you know I can’t deny you? Know I’m always gonna give you whatever you want.”

Stiles shakes his head no but sinks into the touch, neck straining as he watches his hole contract and expand.

“Fuck, Derek, I need..” He’s flushed, pink cheeked and buzzing, skin singing with need, hungry for the real life feel of those thick fingers stretching his hole.

The alpha taps two fingers against the puckered rim, a stinging pressure that has Stiles seizing up, fingers latching onto whatever they can find.

Derek's going to be the death of him.

“Alpha, please I need you to touch me, need to cum.” Stiles feels like sobbing, his dick is a pulsing weight, straining against the confines of his briefs, he knows he’s leaking, pre cum dribbling out the slit, dampening the cotton with a viscous film.

His mate tuts, withdrawing his touch with a final prodding rub; he refastens Stiles’ jeans and leans back to peer at him; all smug satisfaction.

It drives Stiles absolutely mental.

He grinds down harshly, snaking a hand in between them to cup the prominent bulge of Derek's erection.

Derek grits his teeth, fingers flexing responsively against the skin of Stiles’ waist.

“Thought you were gonna give me what I want? What's the matter, alpha? Don’t you wanna see me cum?” Stiles croons, bringing his hips down in another vicious thrust.

Their combined breathing cuts through the silence of the room, great lungfuls of air, catching and full of exertion.

Never one to take it lying down, Derek meets Stiles’ next thrust with one of his own, grinning when the boy’s eyes cross momentarily at the unexpected sensation.

“Believe me pet, I always want to see you cum, but maybe it's you, perhaps you haven't earned it; what do you think, little one? Do you think you've been good enough to come? Think I should jack you off? Work that pretty little cock ‘till its gushing over my fingers? Maybe I'll feed it back to you, put two fingers in your mouth while my other hand is fucking your hole, get you nice and ready for me, I'll fuck you right here since you want it so bad, let the whole building hear you whining for my knot.” Derek’s voice is liquid sin, mouth flush against the shell of Stiles’ ear as he unleashes his stream of filth.

The reminder of their location has Stiles faltering, flushing in embarrassment even as his hole clenches with want.

He knows it's the mating bond, dulling their impulse control in the hopes of speeding up its completion.

Another thought follows soon after, that maybe it's just Derek, that even when their bond is completed he’ll still be like this, always eager for him.

The thought excites him as much as it scares him, knowing that Derek has that much influence, trusting him with that influence, it's not something to be taken lightly and despite any lingering trepidation Stiles can't find it in himself to be anything but giddy.

Giving up that bit of control is freeing, the ultimate act of power and knowing that Derek will never abuse it makes it all the better.

Said alpha is now nipping at his skin, teeth a teasing play at what will be a permanent mark in a few hours.

Stiles arches into the touch, hissing when Derek sucks a hickie onto the thin skin behind his ear.

“There he is,” Derek murmurs once he pulls away, gaze flickering to admire his work, “You'd gone quiet for a minute there, thinking about my proposal?”

Because he's nothing if not a little shit, Stiles shakes his head no, smirking when Derek’s brow arches in question.

He grips the man’s hair in two handfuls, using the silky strands to align their faces once more, “Was thinking that you're a bastard, and if you're not gonna make me cum I'm gonna go in the bathroom down the hall and make you listen while I do it myself.” He punctuates his statement by licking at Derek's bottom lip, delighting in the flare of red that greets him when the alpha processes his statement.

“That's Laura actually, Cora and I were born after our parents got married,” He begins, if there's ever a worthy competitor for Stiles’ crown as smarmiest asshole, it's his mate, the ever dry-whitted, Derek Hale.

“More importantly,” he continues, tone darkening with promise, “I think, that you want a reaction, that you want to play at being bad for a little bit so you can be my good boy again, isn't that right little one?”

Stiles flushes, attempting to turn his head, eager to escape the penetrating weight of his mate's stare.

Derek merely holds him in place, fingers a light grip on his jaw, halting his movements.

Stiles whines, twitching as he's forced to maintain eye contact.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” Derek commands, voice gentle but brooking no room for argument.

His tongue darts out to soothe the dry ache of his lips, and Stiles shivers as Derek tracks the movement, mimicking the action with his own mouth.

“I want to be good, wanna be your good boy, alpha.” He breathes out, voice the quietest it's ever been, near whisper as he trades his words like a secret.

Derek smiles then, genuine but still naughty, and finally releases his hold on the boy’s jaw, rumbling a purring growl when Stiles immediately seeks shelter in the crook of his neck.

He strokes his fingers along Stiles’ spine, a soothing pressure over the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“It's okay to be scared, Genim,” Derek says, chuckling when Stiles huffs at the mention of his first name, “Shit, I'm terrified, you're my world, little one, in the short time we’ve known one another you've become my top priority, my greatest weakness,”

Stiles pulls back, hands cupping stubbled cheeks in comfort as Derek’s tone morphs, “I've been the cause of great pain to the ones I love before, that can’t happen again, I refuse to let it…”

The omega hums in sympathy, a near whine as his beloved trails off, eyes clouding over with recollection.

“We're in this together, sourwolf, I don't know what happened in your past, and I respect that, you’ll tell me when you're ready but I'm not going anywhere, I promise.” Stiles whispered, thumbs gliding over the planes of his mate's face.

Derek nodded in response, nuzzling into the soothing touch.

 

 

* * *

 

  **Present Day (September 7th 2016)**

Stiles' POV

As Stiles thinks back on this moment, he curses, hating that he's turned himself into a liar.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that ending line was a bit ominous.
> 
> If it wasn't clear, that last bit is completely separate from the scene before it, although it's the reader's first time seeing that scene, it's a memory for Stiles himself (meaning for him it's occurred already), I'll be using cuts and italics to separate his memories from his present, think of the chapters before this as intro, they were to set the scene and get you guys acquainted with the cast, now that that's done you'll be getting more of Stiles point of view, his memories and hints as to exactly why the hell he broke his promise 
> 
> Let me know if there's any confusion, and I'll clear it up, things get a little tricky from here on out
> 
> Oh and you'll get your claiming scene next chapter! I just needed to get the ball rolling on the plot!
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos, comments, and support you guys blow my mind!


	10. Witch's Brew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back and edited the chapters to make the distinction between dreams, flashbacks, and present day more clear; feel free to leave any questions if I haven't quite accomplished that. 
> 
> Flashbacks as always are in Italics. Cuts indicate scene changes but only headings in bold indicate time changes or skips.
> 
> This one starts with the claiming scene, hopefully that makes up for my evil cliffhanger last chapter! Enjoy!

**Flashback (March 3rd 2015)**

“That’s it little one, harder, break the sk-”

 

He cuts himself off with a gasp, pulse skyrocketing at the feel of Stiles teeth cutting into his flesh.

 

He returns the sensation in kind, incisors lengthening in search of that familiar taste.

 

It explodes across his tongue, undiluted now with the completion of their bond; copper, vanilla, citrus, magic, **mate** .

 

It’s too much and not enough, he wants more.

 

He moans, a growling, primal, rumble of a noise and settles Stiles down on the grassy Earth in front of him.

 

He’d chosen the woods surrounding the Hale compound on purpose, no better location for their claiming in his mind.

 

Both he and Stiles are connected to this land, servants of nature, protectors of its virtue; Gaia will honor his claim, bless their union so that their mating will prosper in its longevity.

 

But those are thoughts for another time, he’s got a mate, beautiful and uninhibited, writhing beneath him as they continue their primal exchange; it’s hard to think.

 

The boy pulls back with a grin, eyes knowing as he licks at his lips, tongue slipping out to gather the blood coating the corners of his mouth.

 

Derek groans, unlatching his fangs from the pale throat, soothing it’s throb with a lick.

 

He’s panting, breath ragged as he attempts to collect himself, “Do you accept my claim, Genim?”

 

Stiles bucks up, eyes wild, as he scrambles for his belt buckle, wanting the feel of the cool ground beneath him, needing its caress, a relief to the scorching heat of his fevered skin.

 

He receives a growl for his efforts, whining when Derek grips his hands in his own, effectively halting his ministrations.

 

“F-fuck, yes, I accept your claim, Derek, now let me cum!”

 

Derek snarls, upending Stiles ‘till he’s on his knees, he rips down the boy’s trousers and underwear, uncaring as the tear of fabric sounds through the air.

 

His breath is hot as it ghosts across Stiles’ skin and the omega whimpers, hole twitching as his arousal mounts.

 

“Look at you little one, pretty and pink for me, winking at me like a tease, how ‘bout I give you a kiss, get you wet and cherry red? Ready for me to stuff you full…”

 

He doesn’t give his mate the chance to answer, immediately burying his head between his dotted cheeks instead, he nips at his rim, pooling saliva in his mouth to wet his hole.

 

He wants Stiles wet and messy, absolutely wrecked, doesn’t want him to be able to think past the feeling of Derek’s tongue in his hole, wants him to feel it after, plugged up and full, and remember this moment, when he was panting for out, mouth open and begging like he needed a cock to fill it.

 

Stiles is scrambling at the ground, fingers clenching onto whatever they can grip, he’s a shaking trembling mess, body vibrating with waves of pleasure.

 

A finger eased out to join his tongue, tracing along the edges before dipping in, crooking in its eager search.

 

The omega’s hips twitch as Derek probes deeper, a second digit coming to join the first, thick and intrusive, stretching him for his alpha’s girth.

 

Three fingers in and Stiles is keening for it, grinding back on Derek’s fingers, words a filthy babble as he speaks.

 

“Need your pups, alpha, want to f-feel you stuffing me full, want to cry on it, knot me over and over ‘till I’m leaking, let everyone know I’m y-yours.”

 

Derek growls, hips thrusting at the recognition of his claim, he retrieves his fingers, pumping them twice more before using them to grip the pert flesh of Stiles’ ass.

 

He presses in slowly, fangs dropping down as he attempts to maintain control, instincts demanding that he slam forward, pop past that virgin rim and join their bodies together completely.

 

He refrains, sliding in inch by torturous inch, peppering kisses against the sweat damp skin of Stiles’ back, draining the pain with each press of lips.

 

Not that Stiles seemed to need it, he was mindless in his pleasure, grinding down to get more of Derek’s thick cock in his  hole, working ‘till he’s fully sheathed in the fluttering heat, hole contracting in the most lewd of kisses.

 

Derek swears, thrusting shallowly to get the boy used to the feeling, a gentle slide that increased in tempo as Stiles growled out his demands.

 

“That’s it little one, work my cock baby boy, gonna cum just like this, fucked out and gasping for my knot, won’t be satisfied ‘till I’ve fucked you full…”

 

The only sound is skin against skin, slapping together as Derek pounds into the prone form beneath him, teeth grinding as he feels the base of his cock begin to expand, knot filling with the promise of a substantial orgasm, body ready to paint Stiles with his seed.

 

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum, alpha, please-just-fuck!”

 

Stiles ends on an exclaim, jaw unhinging even wider as his orgasm rips through his body, vision whiting out as his body tenses, hole tightening its grip on Derek’s cock.

 

Derek rocks forward twice, third thrust halted as their bodies lock together, he can feel his knot nudging against Stiles’ prostate, an ache that triggers the omega’s second orgasm.

 

His channel milks Derek’s cock, greedily accepting the endless stream of cum pulsating within him.

 

They groan in unison, bodies going lax as Derek continues to stuff him full.

 

* * *

**Dream (September  7th 2016)**

Derek's POV  

_He knows that scent, has mapped it out with his tongue, drank it up, great big heaving gulps coating the roof of his mouth, a permanent presence singed into his taste buds._

_He runs._

_The wolf guides him, feet slapping against familiar green, pushing through thwacking branches, kicking at tangling vines; the outskirts of the clearing comes into view, **their** clearing, and he whines, yearning for the sight of him._

_“Missed me, alpha?”_

_Stiles’ voice floats in from behind him and he whips around, neck cracking with an audible sound in his haste,_

_“G-Gen?”_

_The boy nods, trembling hand extending out, yearning to touch, “I don’t have much time, Der, she’s blocking my magic, dulling it with some sort of tea.”_

_Stiles mouth visibly twists at the memory, free hand sliding down to touch his belly instinctively._

_Derek’s pressed against him in moments, arms wrapped above the swell of his ass, right ear pressed to his protruding stomach._

_“And the cubs? The tea-how does-?” Stiles sinks down to his knees, needing to be face to face with his mate, to look in his eyes, ground him in their temporary solace._

_He shushes him softly, cutting off the inevitable spiral, “We’re fine, alpha, the tea is only meant to stifle me, if something were wrong with them, I’d know it, we both would.”_

_Derek releases a shaky breath, nodding as the lull of Stiles’ voice washes over him._

_It’s been weeks, twenty one days to be precise; five hundred and four hours since the last time he’s seen his mate, heard his laugh, cradled his stomach as he whispered to their pups in the dead of night._

_He wants to howl, thrash and rage, wants to rip the bitch apart, watch her bleed and mount her head on their living room wall._

_Most of all, he wants them back, his anchors, the thought of them is the only thing that’s kept him together, well if you can call it that, his existence currently is pitiful, feral, growling at anyone who dares to come close, surviving off of rabbits and the occasional doe._

_It's a far cry from the man Stiles married, Derek Hale, the county Alpha of Beacon Hills, unflinching protector, one who made supernaturals tremble at mere sight alone._

_He’s abandoned his pack, dismissing all of his responsibilities in his grief, searching for his mate and pups with a brutal single mindedness._

_Stiles would be so disappointed with him, another whine escapes at the thought._

_He’s quieted once more, this time with the gentle press of a kiss, stilling his mind as it's always done, as it always does each and every time they come together._

_When they pull apart Stiles eyes are wide, bright and focused, “She’ll be coming in to wake me soon, we don’t have much time,” He licks his lips, eyes scanning over Derek’s face, drinking in each curve and dip, gluttoning himself on what has now become a rare sight, “there’s a witch on her side, Derek, powerful enough to incapacitate me, even if it is temporary, that kind of magic is unnatural, an abomination-they’re planning something, Der, something big, go to Celia, take my grimoire with you both and visit my mother, she’ll help us, I know she will.”_

_“I’ll get you back, little one, I promise you.” Derek says, grip tightening as he feels the familiar prick of consciousness pulling at his mind, he knows Stiles is beginning to dissolve the dream, he’s not ready, doesn’t want to let him go when he’s just gotten him back._

_Stiles smiles down at the wolf in his arms, eyes a little sad as he takes in the familiar moniker._

_“I know you will, alpha, we’ll be waiting for you.” The omega kisses him again, full of promise; a reminder and a motivation._

_They pull apart soon after, amber and cerulean alike wet with tears,_

_“Stiles, I’m not ready to go-I-I love you, please-just a little more, baby-”_

* * *

 

**Present Day (September 7th 2016)**

 Derek's POV (cont'd)

He’s miles away from home when he wakes up, cycling between shifts, brows protruding and receding as he struggles with the change, grappling with it in a way he hasn’t since puberty.

 

The pressure’s rooted in his spine, spreading till it manifests into a white hot pain that has his bones cracking, skeleton now malleable as his mind settles on a form.

 

Several minutes pass, agonizing and excruciating in their duration, a welcome pain, he feeds on it, uses it as a temporary anchor, filling the void that’s been created.

 

When it’s over he tips his head back on a howl, muzzle twisting into a smirk when his pack returns his call; four paws guide him back to their den, eyes an unwavering crimson.

 

**The Alpha’s back.**

* * *

 Stiles' POV

The door slides open with a clang, loud and obtrusive in the quiet space.

 

He doesn’t even flinch; she has a flare for the dramatics, one that rivals Peter’s and he refuses to give her the satisfaction.

 

She raises a brow, lips poised for some smarmy remark and quite frankly he’s already bored.

 

With a sigh he pauses his morning meditation, palm resting over his belly button as the pups immediately begin to kick.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He drawls, internally relishing in the responding tick of her jaw.

 

She scowls at him, visibly tense before her expression shifts, cloying sweetness and a saccharine smile, “Just bringing you breakfast.” She says, gesturing to the food laden tray, complete with a steaming mug of tea.

 

It’s bigger than last time, more imposing and the sight alone makes him stiffen; she smirks, finally back on equal footing.

 

“Drink up, Spark.”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Derek and Stiles have done quite well for themselves through the years. I'm still settling on exact time frames but I'm feeling like Derek is 26 and Stiles is 23 in present day while in the beginning flashbacks, Stiles is 21 and Derek is 24.
> 
> Thank you all so much for commenting, kudos, subs, and hits, your recognition means everything and motivates me more than you know, I look forward to hearing from you all, much love!


	11. Cat and Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The forces were working against me this week, my computer crashed and wouldn't restart, then my internet was down so I couldn't post, luckily I have the chapters for this fic backed up on my google drive, now that I have internet, here I am! (I contempleted flinging myself off of a cliff many a time)
> 
> I went back and added POV markers where I thought necessary, and added time frames to the flashbacks and dreams, hopefully that helps with the confusion.
> 
> Enough from me, here's the chap, hope you enjoy!

**Flashback (August 15th 2016)**

Stiles POV 

 

His free hand pulsates with unreleased power, the other tightens against the cart's handle, pushing it along, an ode to normalcy; the air around him smells of ozone, it crackles rhythmically, a song and dance; invisible to the naked eye.

 

It mounts, waiting for the glorious crescendo as it's fueled by his unreleased power.

 

Surely they won’t try to take him here, he thinks, in the midst of this suburban ideal, Saturday morning grocery shopping, a chore that he’d begged to do, tired of being cooped up in the den, mulling over baby names while his Alpha doted on him faithfully.

 

Putting it like that makes him sound ungrateful, and not for the first time, he laments his constant restlessness; if he gets out of this he’ll be sure to be more indulgent of Derek’s recent biological imperatives, the poor thing is running himself ragged.

 

Briefly, Stiles thinks that getting himself kidnapped probably won’t be helpful in that department,

 

\- **Goddess, Derek’s going to put me on house arrest after this** \- but then there’s a figure in front of him, holding onto a can of creamed corn of all things and smiling in a way that at a distance would look sweet but up close looks absolutely demented.

 

He sighs, still keeping his power at bay, yep he’s definitely going to miss the Game of Thrones marathon tonight.

 

[The woman](http://24.media.tumblr.com/375990e7e06275ca71d0c0dca8ebcfe7/tumblr_mqswtrBh961rd57m2o1_500.gif) speaks first, “If you come quiet, I’ll let you ride shotgun.”

 

Her tone is light, as if inquiring about the weather, but her hands, settled on her hips, tap a beat against the knife tucked at the waist of her jeans.

 

He can sense the magic in her, as dark as it is, and wonders why she'd even bother with such a weapon, but quickly resolves that its best not to find out.

 

“You’ve been following me around the store for the better part of an hour, what makes you think I haven’t called for reinforcements?” He questions, completely ignoring her statement.

 

She releases a tittering laugh, hand extending to rest atop his shoulder; to onlookers it appears as if he’d said something particularly witty, her bruising grip however belies the friendliness of the touch.

 

“Let’s not reduce ourselves to shallow threats, Spark,” She cocks a brow as she regards him, flicking her hair away from her face arrogantly as she does so,

“Besides, we both know that your Alpha is otherwise... **indisposed** at the moment.”

 

Stiles tries not to flinch, of course he knows, felt their bond shift the minute he set foot in the market, the only thing stopping him from ripping this woman in two are the cubs resting inside of him.

 

“What do you want, Darach?”

 

He could feel her energy looming at the corners of his mind, like a tacky sludge hoping to latch onto his spark, feed on it 'til he’s nothing but a hollow shell.

 

She falters, clearly caught off guard by his quick assessment, and he seizes the opportunity with haste, temporarily binding her movements with an entrapment spell.

 

The cart is abandoned as he makes his exit, brushing off curious stares and attempts at conversation in his rush.

 

He’s back onto the main road now, minutes away from home, but  still wound up, his spine is tight, his grip white knuckled on the steering wheel, and every time he tries to reach out to Derek the bond is murky, as if its being blocked somehow.

 

He forces out a calming breath, he’d know if his mate was hurt or worse, he’d feel it, its not much help, he won’t be able to relax again until Derek’s in front of him, alive, breathing, **whole**.

 

His phone vibrates in the center console and he reaches for it, heart rate quickening as he sees Derek’s name flash across the screen.

 

“Der?! Are you okay, did she-”

 

“Stiles?! Where are you? I need you to turn back around, head back into town, right now, Genim, don-”

 

It happens in stages, summertime slow, but he knows he’s reacting quickly, tires squealing as he tries to avoid the SUV headed straight for him, he says a spell of protection next, calling upon his ancestors to protect them, then he braces for impact, cursing as his breaks stutter, a whining gasp when she clips the side of his vehicle.

 

He praises out his thanks, knowing that a head on collision would’ve spelled death for them all, Child of the Earth, yes, but invincible he is not.

 

Minutes pass, like hours, he hears footsteps behind him, he picks up his pace.

 

He’s crawling away from the wreckage, asphalt stinging his palms and knees, he keeps his belly above the ground, constantly protecting.

 

She catches up to him eventually, his spark ignites, a final hurrah, bright as an auburn flame, but it flickers out just as fast, weakened by his disoriented state, unable to latch onto the mate bond.

 

There’s a heel pressed against his back, it pushes forward, forcing him to the ground, his hands cover his stomach and he takes the pain, grits his teeth as his vision spots out.

 

The Darach smirks down at him, arms crossed as her vessel twists, skin dissolving in a garish presentation.

 

When he blinks his eyes open again, she’s returned to her [natural form](http://65.media.tumblr.com/1bce2412819b71c5a62bf51900ed628c/tumblr_inline_o47jtjOdmR1tv1rlz_500.gif), a nightmarish display that twists his stomach.

 

“You must be tired, sleep, little Spark.” She breathes out, toxin tipped fingers cradling his face.

 

He struggles, but one by one, his limbs get weaker, thrashing becomes a twitch, then stops all together; he's a still body clinging to consciousness.

 

That too becomes feeble, each eyelid is a crushing weight, the tightness in his jaw goes slack-when he tries to blink this time, his eyes don’t open up again.

 

So he sleeps, but for once, he does not dream.

 

* * *

 

 ( **That same day)**

Derek’s POV 

 

He howls, gnashes his jaw, forces the beta shift, rips it from his body, its garish now, hulking and hell sent, twisted by his rage; anger fuels his sorrow, he didn’t  need to see the wreckage to know what happened.

 

Can smell it in the air, the desperation, the mal intent, it all swirls together, a cancerous perfume so strong he’s taken to breathing out of his mouth.

 

Lucan whines beside him but Derek can only offer [the wolf](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gsa6HtsWiGU/UoqudpfHdMI/AAAAAAAAAA0/QntlEFCEidI/s1600/she+wolf.jpg) a consolatory rumble, can’t even look at him, the familiar is a physical link to his mate, a breathing reminder of his failure to protect him and their unborn cubs.

 

He’s bleeding, [Erica](https://67.media.tumblr.com/02c9b0c7454c507758c6f78424b30cfe/tumblr_n1q1topF4v1reyr9bo1_250.gif) informs him, tearshot eyes narrowed in concern, he hadn’t even noticed, didn’t feel the sting of his claws cutting into his fleshy palm, can't feel much of anything right now if he's being honest, nothing good anyway.

 

The blood flows like rivers, separating into streams that curve around his wrist, get tacky in the dense hair coating his forearms.

 

He doesn’t want her concern, he wants his mate, his cubs, doesn’t know why Peter and John suggested they collect evidence, who knows what she’s doing to Stiles?

 

They’re wasting time.

 

He shrugs off [Boyd](http://31.media.tumblr.com/ffde6ee3cc1a3a3c9d7741dde93006e7/tumblr_mpc143l3tI1s4c2fqo1_500.gif)’s calculating stare, informs the group that he’s going to follow a scent marker; there’s nothing but forest to the left of them, his wolf is howling for release.

  
He turns his back on his pack, ignores the way his instincts pull against him for doing so, and runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jennifer, you're always such fun.
> 
> And here we have the beginnings of feral!Derek, I have a soft spot for him.
> 
> Thank you all for the comments, kudos, subs (505 like how????), and bookmarks! You all give me something to look forward to, you have no idea.
> 
> Can't wait to hear from ya! Next update will be on the 29th (fingers crossed)


	12. Blonde Ambition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my loves! I'm back again, thank you all for the comments (they honestly motivate me to continue), kudos, subs, bookmarks, hits, and all that good stuff! This is my second chaptered fic, third overall, and the most popular to date, its pretty hard to wrap my head around how awesome you guys are. Anyway here is the update, its a fun one-depending on your definition of the word (:

**Present Day (September 8th 2016)**

**Derek's POV**

Quiet is their welcome song; an eerie lack of tempo painfully reminiscent of his explorations pre-Stiles, back when the woods still regarded him as a malign predator; the regression startles him, makes him want to roar in his temporary confusion.

 

Do they not remember him? Side by side with Stiles in the summer past, grinning as he blessed every animal and flower that caught his eye.

 

Watching with reverent eyes as his mate breathed new life into these very trees.

 

He was welcome here once, thought of as a friend, a secondary protector even, but now they shun him and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting.

 

These woods are a part of him too now, he wants to be accepted again, needs it, needs to abandon this hushed cloak that he had long since thought as shed.

 

It’s punishment, he surmises, this relegation to the original, the creatures’ mode of vengeance for his failure, his inability to protect the one who protects them.

 

Even the flora retreat, wilting leaves curling away at the sight of him, dull petals enveloping one another, seeking shelter as he trudges along.

 

The land around them is dying, barely clinging on in the absence of its’ spark.

 

Celia eyes the surrounding glade wearily, she too does not escape their wrath, like Derek, she was entrusted as a protector, casted as a surrogate for the one Stiles so cruelly lost.

 

And so their admonishment is shared, the burdensome weight on their hearts amplifying as they get closer and closer to the elders, their guilt stretches like roots, willow thick and just as difficult to upheave.

 

Derek grips Stiles’ grimoire a bit tighter, brings it up to his nose, lets it calm his frayed nerves, gums itching as he catalogs the familiar scent.

 

Licorice, the heady scent of leather worn by time, infused with the gentle bite of cinnamon indicative of Stiles’ particular brand of the arts, all tempered out by white lilies, a favorite of his late mother in law’s.

 

“We’re here.” The witch’s voice is quite, lacking her usual fiery cheer, whether in reverence or from the circumstances of their visit Derek can not be sure.

 

He kneels, as if on reflex, long since accustomed to the rituals entailing a proper visit, having accompanied his mate on many in the past.

 

Celia mimics his pose, retrieving the grimoire when he settles it into her outstretched palm, she lays it at the base of the Nemeton and begins to speak.

 

* * *

**Stiles' POV**

“Rise and Shine, Omega, I’ve got someone for you to meet.” Jennifer trills, voice far too cheery for someone capable of such a psychotic chain of events.

 

Stiles doesn’t even spare her a glance, busying himself with retrieving his shoes from where he’d tossed them the night before.

 

A hand reaches out to halt his movements and he twists away, not quite a flinch but close to it, every instinct in him screaming as he forces his spark into submission.

 

The last thing he wants is to clue The Darach in on his returning power, he needs her to believe that her insipid tea is still working, needs her to feel in control, cocky and assured in his assumed helplessness, pride before her inevitable demise.

 

Jennifer smirks at his reaction, delights in it, the bitch, and he’s half tempted to pull her heart from her chest and just be done with it, but he refrains; _eyes on the prize_ , it's neither the time nor the place, he still doesn’t know what she’s planning, or whom she’s planning it with, the situation is bigger than what appears before him and if he acts with too much haste he’ll risk an even darker outcome; he’ll have Derek mount her head on their living room wall as a reward for his patience.

 

“The great Spark of Beacon Hills, frightened, by little ole me?” She presses a hand to her chest, lashes fluttering dramatically, “Why sugar, I’m flattered.” She says, lips curled with amusement.

 

“What can I say, I’m a charmer.” His comment falls flat, she’s annoying him and she knows it, relishes in any instance where she can incite a reaction out of him; if he didn’t know any better he’d think she had a crush.

 

“Well that much is evident,” she drawls, gesturing to his stomach mockingly.

 

He follows her line of sight, stroking over the sixth-month swell, the pups are awake now, kicking about as if to remind him of their presence, as though the noticeable weight gain was not enough.

 

He smiles at the thought, and of course that is when Jennifer chooses to open her mouth, effectively ruining his brief instance of peace.

 

“We haven’t got all day, Stilinski-get up,”

 

He reaches for his shoes once more, but she cuts him off again, vocalizing instead of attempting physical contact,

“You won’t be needing those, we’re not heading far.”

 

He shrugs, mentally committing himself to escaping barefoot if the opportunity arises.

 

The cell door clangs shut behind them, it’s a welcome sound, one he savours after weeks of being on the opposite side of it.

 

Their location is bland, nondescript in every way, white walls and cement floors, every bit of a serial killer’s dream, but he documents what he can, reaches out with his spark tentatively, careful not trip any detection wards The Darach’s witch may have in place.

 

Jennifer guides him around a bend that leads to a set of stairs and he sucks in a breath, at this stage of his pregnancy inclines are not his friend, he plasters on a neutral face regardless, refusing to give the woman the satisfaction.

 

Once they’ve climbed the stairs, Stiles at an amusing wobble, they continue along a corridor, finally coming to a stop at the frosted glass panel resting at its end.

 

Jennifer taps on the glass, three times in quick succession, and it slides to the left, revealing a study of some sort, littered with specimen jars and herbs as opposed to books.

 

A feminine croon sanctions their entry, followed by the sound of rustling and heels clicking on the wooden floor, increasing in volume as she nears.

 

Silken blonde hair swings behind her as she makes her entrance, she’s beaming, staring at him with those familiar eyes.

 

He wills himself not to gape, “ _Caroline?!_ ”

 

“Stiles,” she begins, cheery as ever, “Enjoying the tea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when we were all totally team Caroline in the beginning?? Turns out she's batshit nuts, who would've guessed?  
> In my defense I had completely different plans for her but my muse had other ideas
> 
> Next chapter will be more flashbacky goodness and maybe we'll hear what Caroline has to say for herself, we should probably check in on Derek and Celia too huh? Alas, I shall see you all in a week's time, enjoy yourselves and the rest of your week!


	13. Wicked Webs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe me when I say, I must have tried to post this chapter a hundred times, think of any hindrance you can and apply to me, you name, it happened  
> But it's here, I'm here, and I've got internet and a computer again so we're back in business!  
> Thank you all for being patient and wonderful, I love you  
> In regards to organization, I've added dates and tweaked the formatting again for easier reading, dreams are in italics, flashbacks and current day are now indicated with a header, along with POV markers, please tell me what ya think, hopefully this make it more accessible!  
> There's a heat scene in the middle section to reward you for all your immense patience and kindness!!!

**Present Day (September 8th 2016)**

 

**Derek’s POV**

 

Limpid pools flick upward, cloudless blue meeting an equally cloudless sky; it's the first time he’s dared to shift his gaze since settling in front of the behemoth.

 

The change in scenery, although brief, is welcome, even as he spies a red-tail hovering above them, circling in wait, ready to pick their bones should the elders so choose.

 

Goosebumps prickle his flesh, tiny raised points like electric currents ghosting along his skin.

 

His eyes snap back to The Nemeton.

 

Beside him, Celia has collapsed, the minute rise and fall of her chest the only sign of vitality.

 

He reaches his hand out to jostle her but can’t make purchase, his fingers slip through her flesh, grappling air and not much else.

 

His wolf whines, the Alpha in him roaring, furious at its inability to comfort a packmate.

 

“Settle down, cub, she’s merely resting.”

 

Its melodic, the tone of her voice, soft and filled with infinite promise, guarded with knowledge beyond measure.

 

The surrounding wood amplify the sound, it encases him, a confusing sensation that has his fangs dropping in alarm.

 

He notices the moles first, speckled little things that litter alabaster skin, next is her nose, slightly upturned and rounded to a delicate button; waves of chocolate hair curl past her shoulders, reflecting the sparkling warmth of her eyes.

 

His fangs retreat immediately and he straightens his posture, tilting his head in deference as he regards her.

 

She laughs, a gentle huff of breath, amused but not unkind; the higher pitched companion to one he knows well.

 

Not for the first time his heart aches for his mate.

 

“I suppose introductions would be redundant, then?” She says, quirking her head slightly as she settles across from him, legs crossing one over the other.

 

He clears his throat, ears heating as he fumbles for words, “It was the moles.” He forces out, voice disjointedly awkward.

 

Wherever Stiles is he’s laughing at him, he knows he is.

 

She lifts a brow, “The what, Dear?”

 

Thick fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck, sheepish in their exploits, “The-uh your moles, they’re just like Stiles’-that’s what gave you away.”

 

Claudia softens at that, eyes still warm, but a little sad, “My Genim’s always been a magnet for trouble, his power, that kind of energy, _pure_ energy, it's like a beacon, for both the bad and _the good_.” She punctuates her remark by tossing Derek a smile, he wants to curse, can feel the blush settling across his traitorous cheeks.

 

“I’m so sorry.” He croaks out, feels like a child all over again, sitting here in front of Stiles’ mother, looking her in the eyes and knowing that he’s responsible for  what’s happened to her baby boy.

 

It's a testament to her infinite magnanimity, Derek surmises; he’d be warding him to hell if their roles were reversed.

 

Claudia tuts, resting a soothing hand on his shoulder, “Gen did say you were a bit of a martyr, I can see now that he wasn’t exaggerating.” She gives it a squeeze, thumb rubbing across the fabric of his shirt before she pulls back, rising to her feet in a graceful slide of limbs.

 

“Do not allow ill appointed grief to consume you, cub, it’s of no help to Stiles, and of even less to yourself. You protected him the best you knew how, laid your life on the line, are willing to do so again and again, it's all I’ve ever wanted for my little spark, and for that I am grateful to you.”

 

She extends a hand, smiling down at Derek from where he remains on the ground, mouth hanging slightly in shock, “Follow me, Alpha Hale, we have much to do.”

* * *

 

**Flashback (March 09th 2016)**

 

**Derek’s POV**

 

He awakens in stages, to the most delicious scent, honey and a familiar Earth laden spice, cinnamon, his fogged mind supplies; _mate_.

 

His cock is thick and heavy between his legs, dripping thickened pre-cum that soaks his balls, coating the dark hairs that encase them, nature’s lubricant easing his thrusts as he slides between Stiles’ thighs, the tip of his cock kissing the mouth of his hole but never quite sinking in.

 

The aching pulse of his cock means he's been at it for a while, seeking out his mate even in sleep. 

 

He groans as the realization sinks in, eyes blooming vermillion, unflickering in their intensity, they’ll remain that way for the duration of his rut, his baser instincts on full alert, ready to defend his mate in this most vulnerable time.

 

Said omega is panting, punched out little gasps that make Derek press that much harder against him, make him grip the supple flesh of his cheeks, holding them apart to watch the sticky mess coat his rim, marking him for all to know.

 

Stiles can’t be more than an hour into his heat, he’s still coherent mostly, and so is Derek, the thought warms him, he finds solace in the fact that his husband wasn’t suffering long without him, that their biologies mimic their souls, intertwined and attuned to the point where they suspend the whims of nature; heat stalling in order to align with Derek’s rut.

 

“D-Derek I swear to god, if you don’t knot me right fucking now-”

 

He flips them over, pinning Stiles’ weight with his own, wiry hairs of his chest scraping along the delicate skin of his mate’s back,  “Easy, little one..” he murmurs, pearly fangs nipping moles at random, love bites that leave Stiles shaking with need.

 

The spark flaps a hand back half-heartedly, weakened now that his heat approaches full force.

 

Derek growls in response, gripping the hand in his wrist, gentle but firm, a reminder of who’s setting the pace, “Settle.Down.Genim.”

 

His voice booms in the quiet space, all Alpha, the walls of their bedroom vibrate with it, shaking in a crude imitation of Stiles’ own body.

 

His mate whines, neck arching awkwardly in submission, the omega in him yearning for his Alpha’s approval.

 

Derek shushes him, bending down to lick across his shoulders, hot tongue laving over the sweat slick skin, a dizzying  path that stops behind his ear.

 

The hand not gripping Stiles’ wrist slides down the spark’s body, trailing over the knobs of his spine; for his part the boy remains silent, teeth slicing into the full pout of his bottom lip.

 

Derek rewards his restraint with a purring growl, “You’re being so good for me baby, my perfect boy, m’so proud of you.”

 

Thick fingers tap against Stiles’ perineum, toying with his heavy sack, ignoring his cock where it lay trapped beneath him, soaking into the sheets below.

 

Stiles is crying now, teased to his limits, salty tears that cascade over his cheeks, he looks beautiful like this, wrung out and needing to be bred.

 

Derek laps up his tears, kitten licks that make the boy arch up, pressing into the dip of his fingers.

 

“M’gonna give you what you need little one, gonna stuff you full, get you pregnant for me, you want that, baby?” He needs to know, needs to hear Stiles say it before they go any further, he knows _he’s_ ready, has been since the first time he appeared to him in a dream.

 

“Yes! Please, Alpha, want to be round with it, want it to take, want everyone to know-to see what we made.” He chokes over his words, voice a cat like warble, but his heart beats out a steady honest tempo.

 

Later, he’ll thank him, wrap his mate in his arms, pale legs hooked around Derek’s waist as he grinds into him, slow thrusts, punctuated with affirmations of their love, he’ll litter him with kisses, knot him gratefully, so undeserving but so so thankful for this gift, this boy who took his heart and gave a hollow shell new life.

 

For now, he opens Stiles up with a finger, a perfunctory gesture, needless due to the slick his body produces in droves, a second digit follows, then a third, he scissors them briefly before bringing them up to his mouth groaning as the taste explodes across his palette.

 

He grabs a pillow, settling it beneath Stiles’ hips, before he shifts his pliant body to his satisfaction, tapping the dimples above his cheeks so that he arches up.

 

It’s a white heat encasing his cock, a slick vice like grip that triggers a half shift, Stiles moans with it, pushes back for the full brunt of his girth, yowls for more, the bedside table begins to shake, tipping and tipping before it rises up, levitating as Stiles meets his thrusts. Derek can hear car alarms going off outside, knows they’ll never hear the end of it once Stiles’ heat and his rut come to an end, can’t find it in himself to care.

 

When he knots him, a baseball sized bulge that locks them together, popping past his boy’s rim with an audible squelch, sparks fly, literal sparks that illuminate their surroundings, Stiles huffs out a laugh, a hysterical sound that catapults into a moan as Derek's cum floods his insides, gushing and gushing with no end in sight.

 

The Alpha rearranges their bodies before he collapses, grateful for this five minute reprieve, he knows that Stiles will be ready again soon, will want to ride him this time, pale fingers digging into the flesh of his pecs.

 

He smiles, cum drunk and dizzy, eyes fluttering closed as Stiles presses a kiss to the crook of his arm.

 

 

* * *

 

**Present Day (September 8th 2016)**

 

**Stiles’ POV**

 

“I’m starting to think that all those blonde stereotypes are true.” He says, never one to shy away from poking the bear.

 

Caroline laughs as if he’s said something particularly witty, a sound that used to fill him with warmth, but now makes his teeth grit, jaw clenched tight with the force of his restraint.

 

“You always were so funny, Stiles, hanging around the station, cracking jokes, making sure John stayed on the straight and narrow.”

 

“Keep my father’s name out of your fucking mouth, you traitorous bitch.”

 

She carries on as if he hadn’t spoken, stepping closer and closer ‘till they're face to face.

 

“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me why?”

 

He scoffs, turning his gaze toward Jennifer, “As much as I've enjoyed this little foray into cartoon villain 101, and believe me it's been fun, I think it's high time we blow this joint, I'm feeling gassy.” He pats his stomach, being sure to shoot The Darach his most shit eating grin, its Scott's favorite, the one that's driven every authority figure they've come across up the fucking wall.

 

Caroline is quick, but he's faster.

 

His hand wraps around her wrist before she can make purchase, he gives it a twist, enough pain to discourage her from trying to lay her filthy mitts on him again.

 

She winces at the contact, mouth settling into a thin line before Stiles is forced to relinquish his grip, hissing as his fingers begin to burn, a searing pain that he fights against, spark instinctively swaddling his cubs in a protective sheath.

 

Jennifer watches on with wide eyes, body twitching with the need to react, whether to intervene or flee Stiles can't be sure.

 

The air around them thrums with power, most of it his own, but he pushes it down, smothers the flames lest he set the whole place ablaze, wants to spit when he sees her smirk, thinking she's won, that her juvenile tea has disabled him.

 

He sets his jaw, if she wants to play, he’ll play.

 

“Just spit it out, blondie.” Caroline bristles at the nickname, an unwanted reminder of Deputy Hasting’s relentless teasing.

 

She turns away from the omega, visibly gathering her nerves before she straightens up, flicking her hair away from her face with an elegantly manicured nail.

 

“It's simple, Stilinski,” she begins, turning to face him once more, eyes flickering with delight, “I'm ready to take what's mine.”

 

Stiles growls, pressing his forearm against his stomach in a protective display, “You keep your tacky dye job away from cubs, lady!”

 

Caroline raises a brow, regarding him as if he's being particularly dense, “I'm not talking about your little mutts, silly boy, I’m talking about the Alpha,” Stiles mouth drops open, heart racing as he realizes that the witch is completely serious; best to go for broke with this one. 

 

“Last I checked Scott was married...to your _brother_.”

 

Her left hand twitches, and he smirks knowing she wants to slap him, she crowds into his space instead, leaning in like she's sharing a secret.

 

“ _Cute_ , but I'm more into green eyes these days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um excuse you Caroline but one does not just call Derek Hale's eyes green!!! They're a myriad of colors, heterochromatic actually you tactless harpy!!!
> 
> Comments, Kudos, Bookmarks and all that good stuff are appreciated and motivate me to update, can't wait to hear from you all, expect an update a week from today (forreal this time)!! Enjoy the rest of your week!!


	14. Darachs, Fae, Witches..Oh my!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline clues us in to her schemes and Derek learns a bit more about Stiles' lineage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bit and I do apologize, my grandmother just passed and things have been hectic to say the least, but I havent forgotten about you all or this story. We'll be heading back home next Wednesday to attend her funeral and settle her things which means I'll likely be without reliable internet, however I'll be writing in that time, I'll have lots of goodness for you all when I return, so please enjoy this chapter and thank you all for your love and support!

**Present Day (September 8th 2016)**

 

Stiles’ POV

 

Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw clenched as he fights off an encroaching tension headache, “So what are you gonna do then, blondie? Snuff me out and then swoop in so you can dry his tears?”

 

“Of course not,” Caroline snapped, “I’m not an idiot, you know.” 

 

“You kidnapped the Alpha’s mate and unborn pups, Caroline, logical decision making doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” He grit out, exasperated by the witch’s insolence.

 

The blonde ignored him, saccharine smile slipping back into place as she resumed her girl next door persona, “I’m in the market for a makeover, Stiles, think you can help?”

 

Stiles frowned, thrown off by the sudden non-sequitur, “Come a little closer, I’ll be happy to rearrange some features for you.” He replied sweety, eyes betraying his fury.

 

“ _ Caroline _ …” Jennifer cut in, forehead creased with worry.

 

The blonde turned to face her partner, doe eyes widened for maximum effect, “Oh c’mon Jen, let me have a little fun, it's high time someone knocked Stilinski down a peg or two.”

 

Jennifer shifted, crumbling under the weight of Caroline’s beseeching gaze, “I don’t-It’s not safe, Caro, he shouldn’t even be out of the cell.”

 

Caroline shushed her, crossing the space that separated them in a quick stride, “I’ll only tell him what, not how, I killed his spark, remember?”

 

Stiles bristled at her casual arrogance, fists clenching as he reigned in the desire to show her just how wrong she was.

 

The darach nodded, eyes softening when Caroline brushed a reassuring thumb along the curve of her neck.

 

And  _ oh _ , Stiles recognized that look, it was the same look he got whenever Derek held the door open for him or brought him breakfast in bed or just about anything else he was liable to do in Stiles’ presence.

 

That’s the  _ I’m so fucking gone on you they might as well tattoo Property of [Insert Name Here] on my forehead  _ look.

 

Why was Jennifer giving that look to Caroline? Was she not here for the whole ‘I want the green eyed Alpha’ spiel? Was this some grand polyamorous scheme? 

 

“I won’t be drying his tears at all, that’s all you, Omega.” she voiced, bright eyed and sly, effectively stalling his train of thought.

 

“What the fuck are you prattling on about, Caroline?” He growled out, heart pounding a rapid staccato in his chest.

 

“Oh come on, Stiles, you’re a smart man, I think you know where this is going.” She smirked, separating from Jennifer to crowd into his space once more. “It’s all in the tea, Genim, without that spark you’re even more pathetic than usual, just like any other human omega, all weak and  _ defenseless _ , the perfect prey for a gal like me.”

 

Slim fingers grip the sharp edge of his jaw, tight enough to bruise, “You’ve made it so easy for me to crawl right in, a pinch of dark magic and I can make this mediocre little body all mine.”

 

He stands stock-still, auburn pools sparkling with rage as he glares furiously. 

 

Idle threat or not, the thought of anyone, least of all Caroline Lahey, worming their way into his body is enough to put his hairs on end.

 

”Aw, don’t look at me like that, we’re still friends, Stiles, that’s why I’m gonna make it a fair trade, you get to have my remarkable body, for absolutely no price at all, consider it a late baby shower gift.”

 

He shakes out of her grip, retreating a few steps back when the temptation to wring her neck reaches a near insurmountable high.

 

“Dark magic leaves an aurora, Caroline, any supernatural creature worth shit’ll be able to sense it, he’ll know something’s up, body swapped or not we’re mates, no spell can change that.” 

 

Caroline smirks, “Ah that’s where you’re wrong, little Spark.  _ Unbalanced _ , dark magic leaves a trace, it’s Gaia’s way of rebelling against something unnatural, but I’m not just skin walking, Stiles, a trade’s a trade, there’s nothing imbalanced about that.”

 

“Derek’s gonna rip your fucking throat out.” He snarled, fixing Caroline with a disdainful look before his gaze shifted toward Jennifer’s, “Your fate is intertwined, darach, you’ll both beg for death when we’re through with you.”

 

The druid visibly paled, but otherwise offered no response, gaze settling determinedly away from Stiles’.

 

“Oh I'm sure he will,” Caroline piped up, casually twirling a strand of her golden mane, “Rip my throat out that is, I just won't be in this body when he does it.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


**Present Day (September 8th 2016)**

 

Claudia Stilinski’s POV

 

“Whenever two beings merge, the universe reacts accordingly,” She begins, laugh lines deepening as she gathers her thoughts, “Energy is never truly lost, it’s merely re-directed, cycling through the Earth so that it may be used as she sees fit. You and Genim, both remarkably powerful in your own right, created a sort of overflow, a surplus of energy, so much so that Gaia couldn’t process it all at once, whenever this happens, the energy is left in a sort of  _ limbo _ . Since it lacks a distinct purpose, its vulnerable, ready for use by anyone or anything, good  _ or _ evil, this is nature’s way of retaining balance.”

 

Derek gulps visibly, the ominous quality to her tone making him weary. 

 

He looks younger like this, she thinks, closer to the boy he was when his father passed away. It brings her no joy, reducing him to such a state, but it must be done, valuable knowledge is never gained without sacrifice.

 

“Mages like Genim,” she continues, “ _ Sparks _ , those of pure intent, can harvest this excess energy by acting as conduits and guide it safely back into the Earth.”

 

“Like he does with the forest!” He blurts out, ears pinkening again at his outburst.

 

His mother in law smiles indulgently, charmed by the obvious affection he has for her son,

 

“It’s exactly as he does with the forest, cub, his grandfather, my father, was fae born, he acted as a healer, using his affinity with nature and Goddess given talent to cure any who needed it, fae, were, or otherwise. He passed his gifts on to me and in my transition, I did the same for Stiles, it’s why he can manipulate the elements in the way that he does, and partly why his magic retains such purity.”

 

She pauses their ongoing stride, tiling her head to the side, expression similar to Derek’s own when he’s scenting something, once satisfied, she gestures for him to resume walking, returning to her speech, “As I said, this untapped energy can be used by those of any intent, it’s malleable and yearns for a master, no matter who that may be. In this case its latched on to a nefarious master, they’re using it to shield Stiles from you, and will likely use it in their final scheme, whatever that may be.”

  
  
  


Derek’s practically vibrating, she can see the questions zipping through his mind but settles a pre-emptive hand on his arm, silently urging him to bite his tongue, “Despite finding a master, this energy remains  _ unstable _ , its natural purpose is to benefit the Earth, to be wielded in some way by Gaia herself, this is why Stiles returns it to the forest, to her, he knows that any energy not originally intended for himself is unstable, easily swayed from master to master.”

 

They finally come to a stop, overlooking a field of wildflowers, each one more vibrant than the last, they stand tall, stretching toward the sun, swaying in the light breeze as if dancing to a beat unheard.

 

In the center of the field is granite structure, it towers over the flowers but for some reason casts no shadow or shade, it’s littered with symbols, carvings that glint in a silver script, foreign to Derek’s eyes.

 

“This instability will be our greatest asset, Derek,” Claudia says, crouching till she’s eye level with the surrounding flora, “But first, we’ll need some help.”


	15. Begin Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back with another update, I felt bad leaving you all in suspense before my trip so here ya go, please be sure to keep an eye on those POV markers, we're shifting quite a bit in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**Present Day (September 8th, 6:45 PM)**

 

Jennifer Blake’s POV 

 

She’s tightening the last of Stilinski’s bonds when Caroline walks in, the blonde scans the layout of the room, no doubt verifying that everything’s in its proper place.

 

Caroline’s always been meticulous, it's 20% of what persuaded her to help the witch in the first place, as risky as it is, this stunt they’re pulling, she feels assured, knows that Caroline’s thought of every possible outcome, they can’t lose, no matter what the omega says.

 

The other part she thinks, the 80%, isn’t as rational, it's not something that can be quantified or planned for, her devotion, her feelings for Caroline are the driving force, as scared as she is to admit it, she’s besotted with the witch, has been since the day Caroline sat with her in the Sheriff’s office, comforted her and promised it’d be okay, even though she knew it wouldn’t, knew that her life would never be the same, not after Kali.

 

A pained hiss pulls her out of her thoughts; she snaps back to the present, vision sharpening on the reddened skin of Stiles’ wrists, rapidly bruising beneath the pressure of the rope.

 

“I’ll take it from here, Jenny, Stiles and I need to have a little chat, mind grabbing my grimoire from the study? It’s right next to the fireplace, can’t miss it.”

She punctuates her request with a smile, all flushed cheeks and white teeth, it’s enough to have Jennifer stuttering, tripping over herself in her haste to acquiesce.

 

* * *

 

 

**(6:52 PM)**

 

Derek’s POV 

 

He waits a few moments, ears straining until the click of Jennifer’s boots dissolves into nothing, after a quick check of the hallway he springs into action, skillfully undoing the darach’s tangled knots.

 

“Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, too little too late, blondie, I’m gonna enjoy hearing you scream.” Stiles mouths off, rubbing over the tender skin of his wrists.

 

Derek curses, reaching out to inspect the damage but Stiles smacks his hands away, “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Hands off!”

 

He sinks back, standing from his crouch, “Well I guess there really is a first time for everything, you’ve never complained about my touch before, little one.”

Hearing the nickname fall from Caroline’s lips validates the reality of the situation at hand, the sheer incredulity of it all and he shivers a bit, completely repulsed.

 

Stiles gapes, looking at him as if he’s grown a second head; the omega rises from his perch, tentatively stepping forward, he decreases the distance between them slowly, weary eyes scanning Caroline’s (Derek’s) form.

 

Derek remains still, relaxing his posture even further and pouring every bit of love he can into his gaze and through their bond, he knows Stiles can figure it out, knows he’ll recognize his mate.

 

“D-Derek..?” He trails off, trembling hand reaching out to settle on (his) Caroline’s cheek.

 

He nods, ignoring the way the witch’s hair sways with the movement, “It’s me, baby, I’m getting you out of here-all of you.” He finishes, eyes drifting toward Stiles’ stomach.

 

Stiles physically lifts his gaze, guiding him with a hand beneath his chin ‘till their paths of vision align, the spark’s eyes betray nothing, carefully blank, a cool brown, hardened like the bark of an oak.

 

Derek remains soft, a gentle blue, like soothing waves lapping at the shore; _c’mon little one, it’s me, let me in,_ he thinks, pleads it, mouth fumbling over a silent prayer.

 

The omega thaws, gaze softening, auburn burning bright, flame sparked and honey sweet,

 

“Fuck, it’s really you, I- _we’ve_ missed you so fucking much, Derek, you’re _here._ ” Stiles breathes out, voice muffled against Caroline’s (Derek’s) chest.

 

They stay pressed together for a moment, relishing in the responding thrum of their bond.

 

Stiles is the one to break the embrace and Derek startles a bit, not expecting the sight before him.

 

His mate’s pupils and irises have been absolved of pigment, they blend in with the stark white of his sclera, both ethereal and jarring in its intensity.

 

He can feel the power rolling off of the spark in waves, it’s enough to make the glamour flicker, Caroline’s blonde mane switching between the inky black of his own and cycling back again.

 

Stiles grins, completely unrepentant, “C’mon Alpha, let’s go home.”

* * *

 

 

**(7:15 PM)**

 

Caroline Lahey’s POV 

 

Caroline hums to herself, lost in thought as she rounds the corner leading from the study.

 

Jennifer knocks her off her feet, both parties crashing to the floor with the strength of the impact, “Jesus Christ, Jen, where the hell are you rushing off to? You’re supposed to be with Stilinski.” Caroline whines out, bringing a palm to her aching head.

 

The darach grunts, extending a hand out to help Caroline up once she’s settled on her feet, “I could ask you the same thing, _the grimoire,_  Care, you wanted me to get it.”

 

Caroline frowns, forehead creasing in confusion, “I’ve got it right here,” she says, waving the thick tomb for emphasis, “Are you coming down with something?”

 

Jennifer freezes, dread pooling in her stomach, “We need to leave, Caroline, **right now**.”

 

The blonde scoffs, “It’s a bit too late for cold feet, Jennifer, I’m doing this whether you like it or not.” Her free hand grips the grimoire tighter, mouth settling into a scowl as she eyes her friend’s shaking form.

 

“Something’s not right-listen to me, Caro, we’ve gotta go.” Jennifer pleads, willing the blonde to listen to her.

 

Caroline opens her mouth to respond, but Stiles beats her to it, “Aren’t you gonna say bye first?” He questions, cruel smirk twisting his angelic features.

* * *

 

 

**(7:26 PM)**

 

Stiles’ POV 

 

The blonde can only gape, eyes flickering between his form, free and pulsating with energy, a power that he wouldn’t have, _shouldn’t,_ if her tea actually worked, and her own, or rather Derek’s glamoured version of it, waving at her jauntily.

 

She recovers quickly, shoulders squaring as she readies an attack, he can practically see the thoughts zooming around in her skull, he tuts, _that just won’t do._

 

Within moments Caroline and Jennifer have dropped to their knees, bones audibly clicking as they meet the harsh cement of the floor.

 

Jennifer cries out in pain while Caroline grits through it, struggling against the invisible hold of Stiles’ spark, “Insanity is trying the same thing over and over and respecting different results.” He says, brow raised in disinterest as Caroline squirms in front of him. “You’re not getting up unless I want you to, might as well save your energy.”

 

He crouches before them, mindful of his belly as he rests his weight on one knee, when he signals, Derek leaves his side, relocating behind the pair.

 

Stiles snaps his fingers and the sound reverberates off the walls, echoing to the point of discomfort, just like that everything stills, time itself slowing to a dull drip, seconds passing like hours as his eyes glow, unblinking beacons, an eerie savior in the encroaching fog.

 

This time its Caroline who cries out, screaming as the inside of her chest erupts in flame, it's unlike anything she’s ever felt, scorching and visceral in its intensity, she wants to claw at her skin, but she can’t move, her hands remain at her sides, limp with inactivity, now _she’s_ defenseless, can do nothing as Stiles sucks every bit of magic from her body, draining her 'till she can only gasp out parched breaths, face wet with tears.

 

Beside her, Jennifer is immobile, streams of blood cascading over the pale skin of her throat, Derek’s fully shifted, massive jaw wrapped around her neck, poised to tear flesh from bone given Stiles’ command.

 

“Didn’t I warn you?” He croons, voice a guttural sound, weighed down by their combining power, his veins glow with it, skin looking even paler in comparison, siphoning her magic without pause, the energy flows willingly, greedy for a vessel, accepting its new master, shifting to suit his will.

“Dark magic always comes with a price.” He finishes on a growl, eyes an ivory blaze as Caroline collapses in front of him.

* * *

 

 

**(9:00 PM)**

 

Caroline Lahey’s POV 

 

It’s soft, whatever she’s laying on, tickles at her skin, she wants to sink into it, anything is a welcome alternative to the all consuming pain that preceded this moment.

 

She pries one eye open, immediately shutting it closed as spots dance across her line of sight, it’s dark wherever they are, it smells sweet, too much so, like over ripe mangoes rotting in the sun.

 

“I know you’re awake, Caroline, let’s get this over with.”

 

Its Stiles, it’s always Stiles, superior as ever, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, she wants to throttle him.

The feel of his hands on her skin surprises her enough that her eyes snap open, greedily drinking in her surroundings, “J-Jen-n..?” She questions, swallowing around the sandpaper thick lump in her throat.

 

The spark tilts his head to the side, wordlessly gesturing to where Jen lays beside her, streaks of dried blood cling to her skin, the shallow rise and fall of her chest the only sign of her vitality.

 

Derek watches on, eyes like rubies as they cut through the darkness, a piercing gaze that sends ice shooting up her spine.

 

Stiles begins to chant, or sing rather, words coalescing into a smooth hymn, she recognizes bits and pieces, a word here, a phrase there, closes her eyes once more, resigned to her fate as she feels the pull of his spark.

 

She’s happy Jennifer isn’t awake, doesn’t have to feel their bodies devolving to their simplest forms, flesh and bone disintegrating 'till only particles and atoms remain, ascending before he forces them back down, feeding them into the Earth, using her siphoned energy to complete the transition.

* * *

 

**(9:25 PM)**

 

Stiles’ POV 

 

His body is shaking, physical form grappling with the weight of his metaphysical labor, he grits his teeth, leaning back appreciatively when Derek saddles up behind him, it's enough to ground him, giving him the boost he needs to complete the transference.  

 

The forest responds in kind, rejoicing in their protector’s return, they accept him gratefully, digesting all that he offers.

 

Bit by bit, the clearing returns to its former glory, fireflies illuminate the scene, wilting flowers snap back, full of new life, a vibrancy that surpasses the blanket of darkness; the fauna come out in droves, they surround the pair, forming a protective circle as Stiles completes the spell.

 

When the last of the incantation falls from his lips mother moon glows brighter, a reflection of his own vision.

 

Two stalks of aconitum bloom before him, vivid markers of the bodies that formerly occupied the space.

 

He tilts his head back, locking gazes with Derek, a soft smile curls at his lips, icy gaze melting back to a warm brown, “In everything there is balance, new life is a byproduct of death, a transference of vitality from one form to another.” He murmurs, gesturing to the violet buds for emphasis.

Before Derek can respond Stiles goes limp, body succumbing to the toll of the day’s events.

 

* * *

 

 

**(10:00 PM)**

 

Derek’s POV 

 

Derek catches him before he falls back, bending to meet the needs of his mate, Stiles is warm in his arms, _safe_ , using this respite to appreciate his husband's form, scans over familiar freckles, pouting lips, amber eyes covered by pale lids, thick lashes that flutter in sleep.

He relishes in every dip and curve, runs his palm along the swell of his stomach, neck arching awkwardly to press a kiss on top of it.

 

Onice satisfied, the Alpha rises to his feet, careful not to jostle his mate from slumber.  

 

The forest’s inhabitants stare at him quizzically, concerned for their protector; he lets his eyes bleed red in response, emitting a soothing release of pheromones.

They'll return as soon as Stiles is back to full health, he knows how they suffered without out him and vice versa; this forest is like a second home to him, these animals, the greenery, they're  family as intertwined with his being as his spark is.

 

He eyes the wolf’s bane once more before his gaze travels toward the Nemeton, surveying the behemoth.

The branches begin to sway, responding to his attention and he nods his thanks, forever grateful to the ancestors, Claudia and Stiles’ grandfather in particular.

 

His mate snuggles closer to him, pale fingers a stark contrast to Derek’s sun tanned skin.

  
“Alright, little one, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now back to your regularly scheduled fluff, its a pretty smooth ride from here on out, folks.


	16. Oh Baby(ies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did ya miss me? The funeral is done, all the arrangements have been settled and I'm back home.
> 
> I'll be going back to my once a week update schedule too, so fret not, this fic will be completed.
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient and kind and supportive I appreciate it more than you know, there's a wee bit of angst but a whole lot of cute fluffy goodness in this chapter, I needed some light in my life and this gets us back into the swing of things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you, all the comments, kudos and bookmarks make my day that much better. See you next week!

**Present Day (September 8th, 11:15 PM)**

 

 

Stiles shoots up with a hiss, spine arching to flee the biting cold of the exam table below him.

 _Definitely not home then_.

The thin sheet of crepe paper that separates skin from sterilized metal does nothing to protect him from the elements and he eyes it dubiously, mouth twisting into a scowl as though it’s personally betrayed him.

Auburn eyes thin into slits as he sets his gaze on his husband, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where we live.” he deadpans, brow raised in expectation.

The Alpha huffs, reaching out to place a steadying hand on his mate’s cheek, “Before we do anything else I need to be sure that you’re safe, all of you.”

Stiles leans into the touch, lids fluttering closed as he reigns in the tremors that threaten to shake his form, “Tell me this is real,” His tongue trembles over the words, consonants and vowels melding together as amber eyes snap open, wild and fierce, a blurring transition that briefly floods his pupils with pure light, “I’ve been here before, here like this, with you and you’re holding me and loving me and we’re safe,” He grips the fabric of Derek’s shirt, cotton twisting between his fingers as he stretches it beyond repair, “But then I wake up, and Jennifer’s there, with that fucking tea and I just-I-I don’t want to wake up anymore, I want to _stay_.”

Derek wants to kill them all over again, pierce his fangs into their neck and tear flesh from bone, rip their hearts out and present them to Stiles as a testament of his devotion. Rationally, he knows it’s impossible, but that doesn’t stop his wolf from howling, thrashing inside of him, angry and bloodthirsty in a way it hasn’t been since he was feral.

He settles for gathering Stiles in his arms, manouvering into the vee of his spread thighs, his heart warms at the easy way his mate’s legs curve around his waist, natural and reflexive as their bodies meld into one.

The arm that isn’t cradling the back of the spark’s head presses against the mating bite, a ring of indentations that interrupt the smooth column of Stiles’ throat.

“Feel that?” He questions, mouth poised at his beloved’s ear. Stiles nods, sinking into the touch.

_Press._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Release._

_Repeat._

The brunette's heart-rate steadies at the third repetition but Derek’s hand remains, anchoring him to the present.

“Whenever you feel unsure or lost or scared, I want you to remember that feeling, the weight of my hand against the bite, the loss of pressure when I pull my fingers back, remember how it feels to be in my arms, the way I breathe in your scent, how it feels to be pressed against me, not the slick smoothness of a dream, but the texture of my skin, the ridges and the dips, the press of my lips against your own, that’s _real_. That’s how you’ll know. You’re awake, baby, you get to stay, you’re here.”

Stiles can only nod, tightening his clutch as the bond eases his burdened mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“This is gonna be cold.”

Stiles glares at the obstetrician, twitching lips belying any malice.

Alden merely beams in response, happy to have his favorite patient, _and brother in law_ , alive and back in his office.

Once the gel is spread over the swell of Stiles’ stomach, Alden begins moving the transducer, sliding it along his skin as he waits for a clear image to form.

“Okay so you’re at about 22 weeks,” He adjusts the transducer, guiding it to punctuate his statements, “If this were a single pregnancy your size would cause significant alarm,”

“Hey!” Stiles squeaks out indignantly.

Alden ignores him.

“But as we know, lycan pregnancies, particularly those involving alphas tend to produce multiple fetuses, it’s a biological failsafe meant to ensure the longevity of a pack.”

The obstetrician tilts the screen, gloved hand holding the transducer firmly in place, while the other points to the sonogram, “We won’t know whether they’re fae, human, were, or inbetween until they’re born but I can definitely tell you how many cribs you’ll need to buy.”

He purses his lips in concentration, “Barring another little one setting up camp elsewhere, I see three perfectly healthy babies.”

Stiles gasps, eyes shining as he stares open mouthed. His cubs, his strong little babies, healthy and safe, fighters just like their daddy.

Derek can’t stop grinning, his heart is full to bursting, his children are in there, beautiful and perfect, ready to accept the love they’re so willing to give.

Alden smiles at the pair, mind flashing back to a similar moment between Laura and himself.

“Alright, Uncle Al, lay it on me, it’s gender time.” The omega snorts at his patient’s remark, well aware of the betting pool surrounding the Stilinski-Hale cubs.

“Gender is a social construct, my dear spark, but I’d be happy to tell you the sex of my future nieces and/or nephews.”

Stiles holds his hand out for a fist bump, “I knew there was a reason you were my favorite.” Alden returns it dutifully, snickering as Derek looks skyward for strength.

“If you two are done bonding over your mutual sociology degrees,” He begins, smirking fondly, “I’d love to get back to my babies.”

Because he’s a mature adult, Stiles sticks his tongue out at his party pooper of a husband, squealing when he ducks forward to “bite” it off.

The sound of Alden crowing victoriously breaks their moment, “Two boys and a girl, Peter owes me two hundred bucks!”

“You mean us,” Stiles says, “My womb, my money, I want half the winnings.”

Alden nods solemnly, “It’s a deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and oh so sweet, feel free to leave suggestions for anything you want to see before the fic comes to a close. I'm thinking we can work atleast one more steamy scene before things wrap up.


	17. Open Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you write six pages single spaced and it feels like nada...moving on  
> I totally lied, it's like I'm incapable of staying away from angst :_:  
> Fret not, this is the light kind and it all sets the scene for the porno that is chapter 18, Mama Hale and Cora make an appearance, and Papa Hale is also mentioned.  
> Thank you for reading, subscribing, the kudos, and those comments! Comments make my world go round!  
> Love and blessings, I'll see you angels next week! (hopefully ya'll see this update, emails have been wonky lately)

**(Present Day) (September 14th, 12:30 PM)**

 

“Not you too, Lucan, come on.”

 

The wolf huffs, heedless of his master’s complaints as he follows him down the hall.

 

“I’m sorry, pup, but you’re not watching me pee, there are boundaries, Luc, boundaries!” Stiles trills out, brows arched in disbelief as the familiar nudges at the frame of the door, whining pitifully when its shut in his face.

 

The spark makes quick work of relieving himself, heart breaking as Lucan’s whines increase in volume.

 

He’s in and out in under two minutes.

 

Lucan’s in the same spot that he left him in, icy blue eyes glossy and impossibly wide.

 

“Oh, pup, c’mere.” Stiles murmurs, unable to resist such a pitiful look.

 

He bends his knees, crouching awkwardly before Lucan presses against him, bearing most of his weight so that he can settle along the floor without harm.

 

When he’s sure that he won’t topple over, he holds his arms out, smile wavering as Luc immediately buries his nose into the hollow of his throat, whines starting up once more.

 

He’s trembling in Stiles’ grip, lower body carefully wrapped around the swell of his master’s stomach,

 

“I’m sorry, pup,” Stiles begins, voice lowered to a soothing whisper, “I didn’t want to leave you, Lucan, you know that, right?”

 

Lucan snuffles, removing his snout from the safety of Stiles throat to blink up at him.

 

_I know it wasn’t your fault, but I missed you, I couldn’t help you, I was so scared._

 

Its Stiles turn to whine then, pulling in a shuddering breath before pressing a kiss to his familiar’s forehead, right atop his sigil.

 

“Do you know why the tea didn’t work?”

 

Lucan tilts his head in question.

 

“My spark metabolized the magic faster than it could take effect, it's similar to what lycan antibodies do when they come into contact with disease.”

He gathers Lucan’s head in his hands, holding his gaze to get his point across, “I couldn’t have done that without you, pup, all of my energy and power was being channeled into protecting the babies, I didn’t have anything left for myself, but you did, you transferred your energy to me, my little conduit.”

 

The wolf yips before leaning in to lick at Stiles’ face affectionately, “I love you too, pup.” He says, slender digits reaching out to stroke through the glossy strands of Lucan’s coat.

 

The familiar settles at the soothing repetition, untangling their limbs so that his head rests on Stiles’ knee, mindful of his belly.

 

* * *

 

 

That’s how Derek finds them half an hour later, dead to the world as they doze against the hallway wall.

 

It’s a heartwarming scene, but instead of cooing or snapping a photo, he’s furious, patience thinning the longer he stares at the sight before him.

 

The growling wakes them up, and before Stiles can interfere Lucan’s  crouched in front of him protectively, sigil glowing and lips pulled back as he responds to the assumed threat.

 

“Der..? What the hell is going on? Both of you, stop it!”

 

The Alpha ignores him, assuming a beta shift as he attempts to roar the familiar into submission.

 

What in the actual fuck.

 

Stiles is on his feet as fast as his new center of gravity allows, immediately settling in between the two.

 

“I don’t know what your problem is Derek Hale but you need to shift back right now! And you,” He whirls around to face Lucan, “Stand down, what’s gotten into you?!”

 

“Stiles, you need to calm down, the babies…” Derek says, features human as he holds his hands up placatingly.

 

The spark tenses, mouth dropping open in disbelief, “Calm down? I cannot fucki- You’re telling me to _calm down_ when you’re seconds away from attacking my familiar. This fucking _pissing contest_ wasn’t endangering them, right?! No just me, their father trying to figure out what the hell crawled up your ass, _I’m_ the one putting them in danger?! Un-fucking-believable! ” His voice escalates with statement, rising ‘till it’s a near yell.

 

The triplets kick against his stomach, the commotion having jostled them from sleep.

 

Stiles sucks in a calming breath, rubbing his stomach in apology, “I’m calling Cora to come get me, when you’re ready to talk to me like an adult, you can join us at the manor for dinner,” He turns away to beckon his familiar forward, “C’mon, Lucan.”

 

They round the corner, heading toward the master bedroom so Stiles can call his sister-in-law and change out of his sweats, he regards Derek wearily before retreating,

“I love you, Derek, and I don’t want to fight, but I refuse to walk on eggshells in my own home, you need to talk to me, we can’t just depend on the bond to fix everything.”

Blood bitten lips part as though to speak, but close firmly at the last second;  Derek receives a weak smile instead, a crude twitching of lips before Stiles disappears from view.

 

* * *

 

“What did my idiot brother do this time?” Cora questions, holding a steadying arm out to Stiles as he climbs into her jeep.

 

Stiles snorts, accepting the assistance gratefully as he clamors into his seat, once settled, he presses a greeting kiss to the side of her head, grinning as she scents him and the pups in response, “I’m sure you’re aware that he can hear you.”

 

The youngest Hale grins, rolling down the driver side window to wave jauntily at her brother, lips widening as he merely scowls, arms settled against his chest crossly.

 

“Good, maybe this way it’ll get through to that thick alpha head of his.” She says, eyes sliding over to reaffirm that Stiles is buckled in before starting the engine, and reversing her way out of their winding driveway.

 ****

“And then he told me to calm down! Like I was the one wolfing out for no reason!” Stiles exclaims, wincing as his flailing hand knocks into the sun visor.

 

Lucan growls in agreement from his spot stretched along the backseat and Stiles tosses him a grin in the rearview, happy that he’s back to normal.

 

Cora hums, nose scrunched in thought, “Totally weird.”

 

Stiles nods agreeably, vindicated at last, “ _Totally.”_

 

 _“_ You should ask mom, if there's anyone other than you who can figure out Derek's manpain, it's her, she can give you the “alpha perspective”.” Cora says, air quoting the last phrase with an exaggerated flash of her eyes.

 

Stiles flashes his own in response and they both dissolve into laughter, alpha machismo never failing to bring them amusement.

 

* * *

 

 

The seductive scents of peppermint and chocolate sway Stiles toward the kitchen, coating the roof of his mouth in a decadent fog.

 

Talia smiles when she sees him, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection.

 

“Genim, come here, my dove.” Stiles waddles over to his former Alpha, sinking into her motherly embrace.

 

“It's good to see you, Tal,” he murmurs, inner omega settling as she scents him with a purring rumble.

“I would've been here sooner but I was put on house arrest.” He continues, pouting as he blinks guilelessly at the older woman.

 

Talia chuckles warmly, arms settled on his shoulders as she breaks the embrace, “So I've heard, come rest your feet, let's talk.”

 

They grab a mug each and head into living room, Stiles stretched along the couch with his head pillowed in the alpha’s lap.

 

She cards her fingers through Stiles’ hair, combing through the tangles of his[ lengthened mane ](http://cdn1-www.comingsoon.net/assets/uploads/gallery/american-assassin/636136147034635990-tlw-00207-r.jpg) as she speaks, “What’s on your mind, chiquito?”

 

Stiles bites his lip, searching for words even as he pushes into the soothing feel of her hands playing in his hair, “I don’t know what it is..ever since I got back Derek’s been on edge, he was protective before but now its increased ten fold...Jennifer and Caroline are gone, we both made sure of that but he’s anxious, like he expects them to jump out at us…”

 

Talia frowns, mind whirring as she inhales the pungent scent of misery, wafting off of Stiles’ skin, “Have you tried talking to him, mijo? You know how Derek is, sometimes he needs a little push.”

 

Stiles whines, sitting up to grab his mug off of the end table and take a sip, a flood of warmth spreads through at the first taste and he wiggles in the spot, taking in another gulp before settling his head in Talia’s lap once more.

 

“I do try, but every time I bring it up he brushes me off or comes up with a distraction. It’s not healthy, Tal, and after today with Lucan, I can’t allow it to go on, I want my husband back.”

 

The alpha sighs, wishing not for the first time, that her son would learn to use his words, she’s seen this kind of behavior before, when Erik was pregnant with Laura, she’d hover over him, not letting him out of her sight, protective instincts on overdrive.

 

She has no doubt that it’s what's happening to Derek, combine those instincts with the fact that his mate was kidnapped and well, it's a wonder her son didn’t bring Stiles over here via piggyback.

 

“I can’t give you all the answers, chiquito,”

 

Stiles groaned.

 

“ _But_ ,” She continued, eyes narrowing playfully, “I can tell you it’s all a matter of instincts, his biological need to protect you is overriding his common sense. My son and I will be having words when he gets here, but you two need to talk once more, don’t let him shut you out, ask him about his father.”

 

Stiles winced, Erik Hale was a sensitive subject for the entire Hale brood, Derek most of all.

Whenever the former patriarch was brought up his mate would quiet down and retreat into himself for hours, only responding to Stiles or Talia.

 

“He’s never-we don’t really talk about him, Tal, Der never takes it well, I hate seeing him so withdrawn.”

 

Talia taps his cheek softly, guiding his gaze toward her own,

“There’s nothing gained in the path of ease, Genim, it’s going to be hard and it’ll hurt but you both need to talk this out, no matter what comes up you’ll face it together.”

 

Stiles nods, eyes slipping closed as the alpha begins to hum softly, lulling his tired mind to rest.

 

* * *

 

 

“S’time to wake up, little one, dinner’s ready.”

 

Stiles rouses with a yawn, snuggling closer into the bulky arms wrapped around his form.

 

Derek chuckles, eyes warm and fond as he kisses the top of his mate’s head, “I know you’re tired, love, but it’s six o’clock and you haven’t had anything since lunch.”

 

The spark grumbles but begins to shift, pulling back to peer at his husband, “When’d’you get here?” He mumbles out, voice hoarse with sleep.

 

The Alpha’s heart clenches at the sound, “About an hour ago, mom went to go start dinner, and you were knocked out on the couch so I took Luc for a jog around the estate.”

 

Stiles hums contentedly, leaning into the fingers cupping his cheek, “M’glad you two made up, and m’sorry for yelling and cursing at you.”

 

Derek snorts, head shaking all the while, “You have nothing to apologize for, baby, I deserved it for being such a dickhead.”

 

Stiles smirks, “You said it, not me.”

 

His mate huffs, lips twitching with bemusement, “I talked to my mom too. Well- _she_ talked, I just listened, _loudly_.”

 

Stiles can’t help the snort of laughter that bubbles up out of him, increasing when Derek pins him with a glare.

 

“It’s not funny, Stiles! She used her alpha voice on me, she hasn't done that since we were kids- I didn’t even know she could still do it! It's not fair,  _I’m_ the Alpha now.” He whines out, for all intents and purposes a chastised cub.

 

“It’s okay, babe, you’ll always be the Alpha in my eyes.” Derek shoots him an unimpressed look, resigned to his fate as Stiles bursts out into another fit of laughter.

 

When his husband is calm once more, he takes his hand in his, stroking his finger over their clinking wedding bands, “I really am sorry, Gen, I let my instincts get the best of me and I hurt the one person I was trying to protect.”

 

Stiles tucks a finger under Derek’s chin, dragging his gaze from their joined hands to meet his eyes, “I’m not saying it's okay, but I get it, Der, I forgive you,” His grumbling stomach cuts the moment and he grins sheepishly, “We can talk some more back at the house, yeah? But right now, I’m starving.”

 

Derek nods gratefully, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips before rising from the couch with ease, pregnant mate secure in his grip.

 

Stiles rolls his eyes, the action infinitely fond.

  
“Show off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry we'll get to the sexy kind of possessive (is there even a such thing in real life? we're all perverts lbr) next chapter I assure you  
> Oh and if pregnancy sex and all the tropes that come with it freak you out, I'll be sure to put clear dividers between the porn and the plot (I got your back)  
> Bye my loves!!


	18. Two become One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with even updating this week if I'm being completely honest, I'm saddened and disgusted with the state of things in my country right now but I figured we could all use a little cheering up, so let's all enjoy some porn! Its trope filled kinky goodness (Derek is a total pervert I don't know why this still surprises me) so feel free to skip if that's not your cup of tea, I have it marked off with a divider and ***. I updated the tags too, just to be safe. Hope you enjoy and thank you for all the kudos, comments, kindness and subs, you all mean the world to me!

**(Present Day) (September 14th, 4:00 PM)**  

 

_He’s stuck in an hourglass, stagnant as the minutes pass like wet cement; the clock above the oven seems to taunt him, gritty ticks that combine with the dull clink of metal against ceramic._

 

_His mother’s making chili, a recipe perfected by his paternal grandmother; a thick tomato reddened base, enlivened with spicy chorizo and hearty kidney beans._

 

_The smell alone is normally enough to make him salivate, unfortunately it appears as though his tongue hasn’t gotten the usual memo._

 

_All he tastes is sand, a barren Sahara, laden with the indignant fear of an oncoming reprimand._

 

_When the spoon stills he knows his time is up, she’s given him space to gather his wits; the time for groveling is upon him._

 

_His inner alpha can’t even muster a hackle to raise at the thought, in situations such as these he is a cub barely weaned, his wolf accepts that, even if his occasional hubris does not._

 

_Talia speaks before he can open his mouth to defend himself, her gaze is piercing in its intensity and alpha or not he finds himself twisting, barring his neck in deference to the whirlwind before him._

 

_Her eyes soften at the sign of respect... briefly , “I’m assuming Stiles is still asleep?”_

 

_It’s a rhetorical question, but he offers a nod in response, weary of her response otherwise._

 

_“Good, poor thing is exhausted.”_

 

_Derek winces, running a reflexive hand through his hair as his mother occupies the stool in front of his own._

 

_A thick marble counter top separates them but he feels as though her every word is being spoken directly into his ear._

 

_“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that your behavior as of late has been unacceptable, you can smell it, lord knows I did, the misery wafting off of that boy was enough to give me a migraine.”_

 

_She leans forward, elbows supported by the counter, “I’m not going to ask you why, I know you have your reasons, and as poorly manifested as they have been, I know your heart is in the right place.”_

 

_He swallows, an audible sound that betrays the fragility of his nerves._

 

_Talia extends a hand, gaze melting, motherly fondness returning once more, “Good intentions aside, you’ve hurt your mate, he is not a bird to be caged, Derek, he’s powerful in his own right, and he’s proven that, ten times over.”_

 

_Any retort he had dies on his lips, silenced once again by a warning glare, “You’re not just an Alpha, mijo, you’re a Hale, we protect those we love, sometimes to an overwhelming degree.”_

 

_She squeezes their joined hands, guiding his gaze to hers once more, “Stiles is your partner in all things, you need to trust not only him, but yourself, trust that he made the right choice in choosing you and trust that you won’t betray that decision. Talk to him, Derek, and when he’s ready, be prepared to listen.”_

 

_“I can’t lose them, mamá, it’s not just us anymore-I was so scared …”_

  
_Steady arms wrap around him, swaddling him in the protective warmth of his mother’s embrace, “Tell him that, mi amor, you’re not alone in this, you bonded and took vows together, allow him to fulfill those promises.”_

 

* * *

**(Present Day) (September 14th, 8:00 PM)**

 

Stiles wakes up nestled against the wide breadth of Derek’s chest, head protected from the jostle of movement via a sturdy arm.

He closes his eyes and enjoys the ride, still lingering on the edges of rest.

Derek manages to unlock the door with one hand without disturbing him from his perch, it's impressive, especially to someone who can barely open it with both on the best of days.

He closes it with his foot and locks it again with a confirming click. Stiles burrows closer, extending a hand to caress his cheek in thanks.

Derek catches his fingers with a kiss and he closes his eyes, lips caught on a smile as warmth blooms within his chest.

When they open again he’s upstairs, back settled along a mountain of pillows, Derek’s kneeling in front of him, unlacing his shoes with more determination than strictly necessary.

He wiggles his toes when they’re finally free and braces a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he maneuvers his way out of the comfort of their bed.

His mate is stiff, appearing in wait as Stiles stands in the doorway of their adjoining bathroom, bladder lighter post relief.

He clicks his tongue, unsure of how to begin but committed to doing so.

“I just want you to know-”

“I didn’t mean to-”

They both pause, fumbling as they concede the floor to the other.

It’s their first big fight and it’s riddled with the awkward clumsiness indicative of an act uncommon.

Stiles clears his throat, hand extending in concession as he leans against the doorway for support, “You go first.”

Derek nods, offering a smile that looks more like a grimace, before sucking in a steadying breath, “I didn’t mean to make you feel as though you were a prisoner in your own home. You spent weeks locked away from your family, from your pack, and you escaped, you overcame something that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, only to return to safety and find that your agency had been stripped away as a result,”

He grits his teeth, jaw clenching with the weight of his words.

He’s beautiful like this, but absolutely miserable, and Stiles wants to pull him in his arms, kiss him and tell him that it’s all okay.

“ _I_ did that to you, I let my fear get the best of me, and it almost cost me the very thing I set out to protect.”

Stiles crosses the room at that, settling next to Derek on the bed and then crawling into his lap when the man refuses to meet his gaze.

He cradles his face in his hands, the man that he loves, the father of his unborn, the Alpha who knows such grief but gives such love, “We’re in this together, Derek Hale. You found me in a dream, you came to me, despite all odds, you chose _me_ , I’m not going anywhere,” He guides the hand not settled around his waist to rest atop his stomach, covering the tanned skin with his own paler hue, “ _We’re_ not going anywhere. We love you, Alpha.”

In seconds he’s flat on his back, nestled against the pillows once more as Derek clutches him close,body practically vibrating as his lips tremble out apologies.

“I love you, Genim, all four of you, and I promise to protect you, to lay my life down for yours, to listen and cherish, to hold without crushing, ever mine and ever yours.” His husband’s gaze is intense, every iota of his focus and sincerity concentrated in the strength of his hold and steadiness of his gaze.

It’s like a punch to the gut, and he curses, blaming the pregnancy hormones as his eyes well with tears.

Derek can only chuckle at his antics, kissing away the moisture tracking down his cheeks before connecting their lips. _At last_ , his mind supplies.

 

* * *

*******

Salt. Mint. Cinnamon. _Stiles_.

Everything is Stiles; the press of his lips, his fingers in his hair, the slick slide of his tongue against his.

His mate permeates his very existence, crashes into him, burrows down and settles, twists them together ‘till there is no me, or you, just us; _them_.

Derek groans with it, can’t get his fill, he wants Stiles shaking and screaming beneath him, wants everyone to know that even past the pups in his belly, that it’s Derek he belongs to, and that Derek belongs to him.

It’s his knot that Stiles hangs off of every other night, his name that Stiles screams in ecstasy, his arms Stiles seeks comfort in when it's all too much to bear.

They’ve had all of each other, tears, sweat, blood, cum; he’d rip his own heart out if it would make Stiles smile; present it on a silver platter and grin as he devoured it whole.

He needs him to know that, to know that he’d do anything, his devotion is mindless, **scary** , but _sure_ , he’d do anything for this man; tear down anything or anyone who tried to take him from him.

Its borderline irrational, he knows Stiles is his own person, just got through seeking forgiveness and attesting to that fact, but his wolf is restless, it needs to be _sure_.

Stiles is so sweet beneath him, releasing punched out little gasps, gripping Derek closer as he fucks against the thigh slotted in between his legs.

“That’s it, little one, you’re being so good for me, baby.”

The omega mewls at that, dick twitching as Derek busies himself with divesting Stiles of his clothes.

Without the fabric to obstruct his view, the tantalizing stretch of Stiles’ pale skin is ever present for Derek’s greedy eyes.

He drinks in the sight gratefully, cataloging the swollen mounds of mate’s breasts, nipples red and sheened with the promise of milk yet spilled.

His canines lengthen, mouth filling with saliva as his wolf howls with the urge to bend down and suck, eager to taste the proof of his virility.

He refrains, instead, shifting his gaze to the rise of the omega’s belly, speckled with moles, and casting a shadow on the thatch of curls below, sparse in comparison to Derek’s own, leading to his pink-flushed swollen cock, pushed up against his stomach; precome glossy and pearling at the slit.

“C’mon on, Der, off.” Stiles pulls at the fabric of Derek’s overcoat, tugging ‘till his mate gets the hint and begins to strip.

It’s skin against skin, _finally_ ; slender fingers map out the slopes of Derek’s abs, the strength of his densely muscled shoulders, they tug at the substantial girth between his legs; each touch a claim on the man spread out for his eyes alone.

Their lips connect once more, a filthy kiss, tongue and teeth as Derek fucks his way into Stiles’ mouth, a crude imitation of what he yearns to do to his hole.

Stiles yields to husband’s ministrations, mouth pliant as Derek sucks his tongue into his mouth, fingers slipping between them to prod at Stiles' hole.

He’s slick outside his heat for the first time in his life, pregnancy combined with the near dizzying need to be knotted.

Derek’s cock is pulsing against him, leaking precome and he whines for it, past caring and desperate to be filled.

“I’ve got you, baby," He says, stroking along Stiles’ rib cage, “Gonna take care of you.”

He rolls the boy onto his side, sliding down the sheets ‘till his eyes are level with the delicious swell of his mate’s ass.

Human teeth sink into his favorite mole, a tiny brown dot nestled between the dimples above each cheek. He gathers the flesh in his hand, one palm each, and squeezes, parting and pulling as the puckered hole twitches in response.

“C’mon, Derek, stop fucking tea-” A moan breaks his statement; Derek’s tongue is working its way past his rim so it’s to be expected.

His Alpha is relentless, holding Stiles thighs apart as he settles between them, fucking into him with the dirtiest of french kisses.

It’s torture, every drag and swirl of the muscle, the slick feel of his entrance coated in Derek’s saliva and his own personal lubricant, he pushes back onto the tongue taking him apart, whining when Derek holds him still, stubble scraping against his tender skin in warning.

“P-please, Alpha, I need you, Derek.”

He’s going out of his fucking mind.

 

“What do you need, baby? Want me to fill you up?” A finger joins Derek’s tongue, pumping in and out, crooking toward Stiles’ prostate.

Two more follow, perfunctory gestures that although sweet, are cutting into the time that could be spent with Derek’s dick up his ass.

He could kill him.

“Derek _Anthony_ Hale, you have ten seconds to-”

Why is it that he can never finish a sentence?

The man in question chooses that exact moment to slip inside, the thickness of his cock inciting a white heat that has Stiles scrambling for something to hold onto.

He doesn’t relent, pushing in, inch by tortuous inch, kissing Stiles' rim with the tip of his cock before going deeper, eyes trained on the way his husband's body greedily sucks him in.

He’s pressed along his sweat slicked back, one arm spreading the omega's legs while the other pinches and pulls at his nipples, coaxing his milk.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He questions, “Whining for my cock, like you were thirsty for it. Needed me to stuff you full, huh, sweetheart?”

Derek’s balls are flush against Stiles’ ass, furred and heavy with the promise of substantial load; Stiles wants them in his mouth.

The Alpha stills, awaiting an answer.

“Fucking- _yes_ ! Goddamnit, Derek, I need it, need you to fucking knot me,” He breaks off on a keen, “Please alpha, need you, _only you_.”

Derek growls at the affirmation of his claim, teeth latching onto the mating bite as he begins to fuck into the tight channel of Stiles ass.

His cock is encased in a slick heat, a vice like grip that has hips stuttering, sparking a diffy grind into the prone body below him.

He pinches Stiles nipples between his fingers, rolling the reddened buds and squeezing ‘till they begin to drip with viscous fluid.

 

He brings a milk slickened finger up to his mouth and savours the taste, repeating the process before offering his digits to Stiles’ awaiting lips.

The spark moans around his husband’s fingers, pulling them deeper into his mouth as Derek whispers a litany of filth into his ear. “That’s it, sweet one, nurse those like you would my cock, milk my cock like I'm milking your pretty little tits. My beautiful omega, all ripe and swollen for me. Took my knot so good, baby, let me fill you right up, all round with my pups.”

Stiles can only nod his agreement, cock pulsing with the tremors of his oncoming orgasm.

“I’m gonna knot you, sweetheart, can you come for me? I want everything you’ve got, gush all over me with that pretty pink cock and I’ll stuff you full again, make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

He circles the tips of Stiles’ nipples with dexterous thumbs; knowing the added stimulation will both aid his lover's orgasm and distract from the slight discomfort of his knot popping through, not that the younger man seemed too hung up on the potential twinge of pain; he was still sucking ravenously on Derek’s fingers, tight little ass pushing back to coax the Alpha’s bulging knot past his puckered rim.

“Open up for me, baby, let me in.” Derek growls out, hips snapping forward with enough force to rattle the headboard.

Stiles spills atop the sheets, balls tightening and drawing up as his release coats the underside of his stomach, cascading over his spread thighs.

Derek’s knot locks inside of him, throbbing and huge, as streams of warm cum paint his insides, spurring his softening cock into another orgasm; he’s wrung out and weak, can only lay there as Derek continues to fuck into his body, measured grinds of his hips that jostle his knot against the bundle of Stiles’ prostate.

The were rumbles with satisfaction, sucking bruising kisses into the curve of his mate's neck as he waits for his knot to go down.

 **  
** Their bedroom is fragrant with the scent of sex, thick and heady, a visceral reminder of a claim renewed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and if it's not clear, the beginning is a flashback to the conversation Derek mentioned having with Talia while Stiles was asleep.


	19. Ghost of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins where the prior left off. Angst lay ahead.

**(Present Day) (September 14th, 10:15 PM)**  

 

“Tell me about him.” Stiles says, soft and sweet, voice cutting into the quiet intimacy that curls around them.

 

Derek hums in question, only half focused as his fingers work through the tangled strands of his beloved’s mane. The boy pauses, clearly working up the courage to continue but reiterates his request nonetheless, “Your father, tell me about him.”

 

The words hang in the air, falling off his tongue to land in a heap, heavy and awkward as he feels Derek’s heart speed up beneath his cheek.

 

They have nothing but time, so he tightens his grip around his husband’s middle, burrows closer, and waits.

 

****

 

Derek's voice rouses him into consciousness some time later.

 

The Alpha’s tone is measured, each word chosen with an evident deliberance, “I met Kate Argent when I was seventeen,” Stiles sits up at that, the name is eerily familiar; a fuzzy awareness hovers at the edge of his mind, but try as he might he can’t seem to clutch it in his grasp.

 

“She was beautiful, and ferocious, and interested in _me_ , the dumb jock; Honor Roll Laura’s half-wit brother.” The omega whines in disapproval, it’s rare that Derek is anything other than confident, hearing the older man degrade himself sends possessive indignation ripping through him, his eyes bleed gold in the darkened room as his spark thirsts for vengeance.

Derek smiles bitterly at both the memory and his mate’s clear outrage on his behalf, he settles a warm palm over the boy’s protruding stomach, an unspoken thank you and weary reminder of his condition.

The majority of his high-school career was spent in forced competition with his older sister. Laura was charismatic and effortlessly warm, well rounded and capable where Derek was shy and reserved, using his athleticism as an outlet for his sense of alienation.

“Kate thought I was funny and kind and _smart_.  She always sang my praises, made sure everyone knew I was more than just the co-captain of the basketball team…I felt validated, for the first time in my life. ”

 

He sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring on the inhale as Stiles’ scent grounds him in the moment.

“Toward the end of our senior year Kate’s parents were caught up in a nasty divorce, her father, Gerard was an Alpha, a real traditionalist asshole, he’d abuse Kate and her mother, and force her brother Chris to watch. He was trying to mold Chris to his image, wanted to show him how “omega bitches” deserved to be treated.”

 

The cotton rips beneath his claws as Derek spits out the words, wishing not for the first time that he could force a branch of mistletoe down Gerard’s windpipe.

 

“We made plans to run away before the end of the semester, we both had enough credits to graduate early and couldn’t risk Kate spending anymore time in that hell hole. Our bags were already packed so the day our diplomas came in, we picked them up and agreed to meet back at the preserve entrance 'round ten.”

 

The Alpha shakes his head; looking back on it he should’ve known how problematic their supposed fool proof plan actually was, but he was young, and infatuated, he would've caught the moon if Kate asked him to.

 

“I wanted to have one last dinner with my family, and Kate wanted to say goodbye to her mother and ensure that Chris wouldn’t try to follow her. She wrote him a letter and left it on the dresser for him to find after he came home from work. He was working a double shift that night so we’d be well on our way to New York by the time he opened the front door.”

 

Derek scowls, expression darkening as he forces out the next sentence, “Gerard found the letter before he did.”

 

“When I got to the preserve he was waiting for me, he had his fist wrapped around Kate’s throat, she was crying, pleading with me to do something, it was like I couldn’t move, I could feel the panic bubbling up inside of me but I pushed it down, tried to get a grip on myself, I needed to help her.”

Stiles settles his hand atop Derek’s, intertwining their fingers where they rest atop his bump, he gives the digits a squeeze, not trusting himself to speak.

 

“I finally managed to snap out of it after a minute or so, Gerard was taunting me, calling me weak and saying how he’d rather kill her than let Kate run off with a waste like me. I charged at him and he tossed her to the side, this is what he’d been waiting on, he had nothing to lose at this point, killing me would be the highlight of a miserable year. That’s how my father found us, Gerard’s claws in my neck, while Kate screamed her head off. He was an Omega by birth, but an Alpha in spirit, I’d seen weres twice his size tremble at his feet, and in this moment one of them was about to take away his only son.”

Vermilion eyes are glazed over with unshed tears, Derek’s voice is wavering as he pushes on, “The next thing I knew I could breathe again, and my father was going at it with Gerard, my neck was still stitching together so I could only watch and pray that my dad would come out on top. He was quick and conscious of his movements where Gerard was operating on blind rage, swiping his claws and often missing. I could see Gerard tiring out, it felt like my father’s victory was a sure thing, but then Kate jumped in, she was still screaming, but now it was in rage instead of fear, she hopped on top of Gerard’s back and started punching the back of his head. It was enough to give my father a pause, he didn’t want to accidentally harm her and Gerard used that to his advantage. Before I could step in he bucked Kate off him and plunged his f-fist into my father’s chest.”

 

Hot tears roll over the plane’s of Derek’s face, but he continues, breath hitching with each word, “I lost it, the first time I accomplished a full shift and I couldn’t even remember how I did it. When I came to, Gerard’s body was ripped in pieces and strewn about the preserve while the metallic tang of blood sat heavy in my mouth. Kate had finally stopped screaming, she was hovering over my father, trembling as she tried to stuff his organs back into his chest. I shifted back and pushed her out of the way, he was dying and I knew that.”

 

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, unwilling to look at Stiles as he draws to a close, “I held him, heard his final breath and I howled, my mother found us soon after, that was the first time I felt true grief, she was sobbing and begging me to let him go, but I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready to. She wasn’t either-Peter was the one who separated us, called your father, and Kate’s mother. I gave my statement and watched as my father, my best friend, was taken away in a body bag.

 

We buried him on our parent’s wedding anniversary and Kate committed suicide a week later. I accepted my admittance to Columbia and left for New York three days after.”

 

His lids flutter open as garnet gives way to crystal blue, a visual embodiment of Derek’s fraying control, he rolls on his side, finally settling his gaze on the boy before him, the father of his children, the one whom above all else he’d do anything for, “If I lost you, I couldn’t go on. You and those pups are it for me, Genim, my anchor to humanity, I will literally unravel without you, wherever you go, I’ll follow, I need you to understand that.”

 

Stiles sucks in a shuddering breath, cradling Derek’s head in his palms as he guides their foreheads together, “I love you, Derek Hale, nothing will take me or our babies away from you, wherever I go you’ll be at my side, and if you aren’t I’ll find you, no matter the cost.”

 

The Alpha settles his nose against the pale column of his omega’s throat, body shuddering as he tunnels closer.

  
_From grief blooms love_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I originally planned for this to be a fluff fest but doing so would've cheapened the emotional intensity of the situation imo (also I'm having a bit of a crisis with my writing, its of the what am i doing? is this even any good? i suck variety so I'm leaking feelings all over the place). We'll return to lighter content next chapter, and I added another just to be sure I wrapped everything up nicely. Hopefully you're all well, especially as we near the holiday season, much love and thank you for your support.


	20. Daydreamin'

 

**(Present Day) (October 17th, 4:30 PM)**

 

“Uncle ‘Tiles!”

 

“Kitty Kat!” He responds, mirroring his god-daughter’s enthusiasm.

 

[Katerina Hale](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/9c/d0/71/9cd071d841fe64518cfee4ec2d20eecd.jpg) is visually every bit her mother, Celia’s golden skin and bouncing curls, light green eyes that could get her the Eiffel Tower if she wanted; she’s thirty pounds of irresistible cuteness and she knows it, that _awareness_ is all Peter.

 

She bounds into her god-father, chubby little arms wrapping around his linen clad legs, “I missed you, Uncle ‘Tiles, are my cousins otay?” She questions, green eyes trained on Stiles’ bump.

 

“They’re just fine, angel, they woke Uncle Derek up last night craving curly fries.” The two share a conspiratorial giggle,

 

“Is that my Kit-Kat I hear?”

 

The little girl detaches herself from Stiles’ legs, curls whipping around her as she searches for the source of the voice.

 

“Uncle Dewek!”

 

She launches herself at the elder, squealing in delight as he hoists her above his head.

 

“How’s my girl doing?”

 

She beams at him, tugging at his beard excitedly.

 

“I helped Papa make dinner today, Uncle Dewek, Mama said this time it’s edibles!”

 

The Alpha chuckles fondly, cradling the cub against him as she buries her head at the base of his throat.

 

He scents her in turn, rubbing their cheeks together briefly to avoid burning her with his stubble.

 

Stiles watches on fondly, heart thrumming as visions of Derek with their future children fill his mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**(November 5th, 2:30 PM)**

 

“A little more to the left…no, Scottie, _my left_ .” [Stiles](https://67.media.tumblr.com/d28f3ddb46ed1371a2edae7fa8844afc/tumblr_nakccbu02f1qceidto1_500.png) demanded, mouth twisted into a frown as his older brother struggled to meet his specifications.

 

[Scott](https://67.media.tumblr.com/8077fce09ca5f5c16d8b2d2d42efaab1/tumblr_inline_nuz8i5RAUP1tu3nve_500.gif) huffed out an aggravated breath, mentally reminding himself not for the first time, that this was a labor of love, and no matter how strong the urge, it would be _very_ impolite to throttle his _very_ pregnant younger sibling.

 

 _Also, Derek would probably rip his arms off so there’s that_.

 

As if sensing his inner turmoil, [Isaac](http://static.tumblr.com/vpbr1s7/1o9mf4q3g/tumblr_mf34toswi81rqnquno1_250.gif) materialized at his side, hauling an Ikea box containing what would soon be a [rocking chair](http://www.mackenziesinn.com/nursery-rocking-chair-for-appealing-your-chair-design-ideas/classic-nursery-rocking-chair-with-cozy-parkay-floor/).

His husband nudged him with his hip, eyes shining with mirth as he took in the fine creases at the corner of Scott’s mouth.

The brunette shook his head, ducked down for a quick kiss and then returned his focus to Stiles, he’d rather not be called out for “slacking”.

 _Again_.

 

“Now that you and Curly are done flirting,” Stiles smarted, words garbled by the Nutella he was practically inhaling, “let’s get back to work, you’re still a couple of inches off.”

 

“He’s a grower.” Isaac murmured, snickering behind the safety of an instruction manual.

 

Stiles ignored him, Nutella was the only thing he could stomach peacefully as of late and he’d be damned if he let thoughts of his brother’s sex life ruin his appetite.

 

“Wait!” The spark exclaims, arms shooting out to catch the hazelnut spread before it ruined the light carpeting beneath his feet, “Right there is perfect, SS, drop it, _gently_.”

 

Scott is audible in his relief, resting the massive crib down with a heaving sigh.

 

He shakes off the lingering strain in his forearms and then turns to face his sibling, silently conveying, _Well what do you think?_

 

Stiles rises to his feet, waddling around the room with a clear determination.

 

The nursery is beautiful; its walls are painted a soft blue, “vista blue” according to the swatches, [swirling clouds](http://cdn.homedesignlover.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/20-smoky.jpg) stretch from above the windows, upward and across the roof, extending from every corner.

 

The cream carpeting is soft beneath his feet, a mix of wool and shag, hypoallergenic and perfectly suited to the sensitivity of newborn supernaturals.

 

The [cribs](https://media2.popsugar-assets.com/files/2010/05/20/2/192/1922664/a1c2b3b7a7320479_angleshot.preview.jpg) themselves are made of white ashwood, sourced from a tree Stiles blessed and chopped himself. Well, Derek it cut it down, Stiles just levitated it to the truck.

 

_Semantics._

 

The bars of the crib are etched with protective runes, designed to alert both Derek and himself, should the newborns experience a state of heightened distress.

 

His favorite addition however has to be the [mobiles](https://www.etsy.com/listing/247434624/baby-mobile-wolf-baby-mobile-neutral?utm_campaign=shopping_us_PaigeAndPoppy_sfc_osa&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_custom1=0&utm_content=6989734&gclid=CNWitMeK6tACFQhkhgod8bwO6w), Isaac crafted them by hand, with each mobile featuring three little wolves, in varying states of rest, the wolf cubs are flanked by arrow feathers, kid friendly imitations of the matching tattoos he and Scott have banded around their arms; symbols of protection and resilience.

 

Seeing the nursery near complete makes everything much realer somehow, in a way that his ever shrinking bladder and planetary bump never could.

 

Brown eyes sting with the threat of tears, before he knows it, he’s bawling, fingers gripping the edge of the nearest bassinet in support.

 

Scott lets out a strangled noise, he hates seeing Stiles cry, it never fails to shoot his protective instincts into overdrive.

 

He rushes across the room, pulling his baby brother into his embrace while he blubbers into the cotton of Scott’s crew neck.

 

“Aw man, c’mon Gen & M’s,” Scott begins, relaxing when he feels Stiles smile at the youthful pet name, “What’s the matter, the carpet too soft or something?”

 

Stiles pulls back, sniffling indignantly at his brother, “Don’t be a jerk,” he says, punching Scott in the shoulder playfully, “I’m just so _happy_ , I always thought it’d be the reverse, Isaac would be the one restricted to yoga pants and sweatshirts and I’d be the forever single doting uncle,” He sniffles again, tears returning full force, “But we’re here and I have Derek and these babies and you guys are so good to me even though I’m mood swingy and I eat all the dessert and I just-I love you guys!” He finishes on a warble.

 

Scott blanches, patting at his brother’s back robotically while Isaac watches on in profound amusement.

 

He takes pity on his emotionally stunted husband eventually, and joins the duo, murmuring soothing words as Stiles wraps around them like an octopus.

 

The Alpha mate eventually calms down, his growling stomach taking precedence over the emotional intensity of the moment.

 

“Scottie?”

 

“Yes, Gen?”

 

“Can we get Hibachi?”

 

* * *

 

 

**(November 20th, 1:22 PM)**

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

Stiles queries, wincing in sympathy as Derek delivers a forceful blow to exercise bag suspended before him. With the way his mate is going at it, Stiles can guess that the boundary negotiations didn't go according to plan.

 

They’re on the second floor of the house, Stiles has dubbed it the recreational zone, there’s an arcade, small theater, craft room, and mini gym, all available to the pack whenever the mood should strike them.

 

Since its creation, the gym has been a bit of a haven for Derek, like the woods surrounding their property, it’s a safe space for him to go to work out his frustrations.

 

Their pack mates tend to steer clear of him whenever he uses it, Derek’s their Alpha, and they love him to bits but no one wants to be pulled into his ridiculously stressful “stress relief” workout regime.

 

Boyd still refuses to set foot on the treadmill.

 

Derek grunts in response, Alpha speak for _I want to rip their throats out._ **_With my teeth_** _._

 

Stiles rolls his eyes, unphased by his mate’s sour mood.

 

He’s fresh from his baby mama yoga class (It’s a Lamaze and Prenatal Yoga Class, Stiles!) and nothing can bring him down, he is the embodiment of Zen.

 

“[Lydia](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/24/56/b3/2456b3a49d9c38032c9b8ff6b763652c.jpg),” Stiles’ instructor, “asked for you, she thought I’d run off with Peter and Celia in some illicit triad, Peter being Peter didn’t help,”

Stiles hums, lips curling into a smirk,

“She banned him actually, said the next time you had a meeting she’d just reschedule the class, I think he creeps her out.” Stiles mused, shaking his head fondly.

 

Derek huffs out a laugh, twisting his tank top up to wipe at his sweaty face, “My uncle tends to have that effect.”

 

Any retort Stiles has dies on his tongue, arousal flaring as he takes in the sight of his husband’s defined torso, sharp enough to cut diamond and sheened with the evidence of his workout.

 

Derek pretends not to notice.

 

Satisfied that Stiles' eyes are on him without stray, he pulls the tank off completely, tossing it to the side with a deliberate ease.

 

Heat blooms at Stiles’ core and he widens his stance reflexively, one arm coming out to support his weight against the gym wall.

Derek abandons the punching bag for the time being, setting his sights on the pull up bar, a choice he’s sure his audience will approve of.

 

In one leap, he’s holding onto the bars, corded arms supporting his weight with ease.

 

“Can you count for me, love?” He asks, grin sharp and predatory.

 

Stiles nods dumbly, acquiescence voiced in a whimper.

 

Derek heaves himself up, chin rising well above the bar.

 

The only noise in the room is the sound of their combined breathing; Stiles is biting his bottom lip, pupils expanding by the second.

 

The Alpha arches an expectant brow.

 

“O-one…”

 

Derek’s muscles are dancing beneath his skin, twisting and flexing with every move. His sweats are low on hips, snug around his impressive thighs and doing nothing to hide the sizeable length trapped beneath.

 

Stiles mouth waters reflexively. He continues to count, slick hole clenching in need as he tracks the beads of moisture sloping along the contours of his mate’s body.

 

Scarlett eyes flash as he scents his lover’s growing arousal, grip loosening just a fraction a he yearns to touch the boy.

 

“Nineteen…”

 

“Twenty…”

 

The elder is stalking across the room in an instant, his cock bobbing with every step and Stiles moans at the sight, cheeks flushing as he eyes the blooming wet spot at the front of the Alpha’s sweats.

 

Derek crowds into his omega’s space, mindful of his belly as he slots a leg between needy thighs.

 

Stiles is cursing, grinding into the cotton covered flesh of Derek’s upper thigh, his arms shoot out, latching onto Derek’s hair, anything to leverage his thrusts.

 

“God Stiles, you smell so _ripe_ ,” He groans out, “Bet your little hole is wet for me, huh sweetheart? Already knocked you up but you still want more, my cum hungry little mate.”

 

Stiles whines, hips stuttering as Derek snakes a hand between their joined lower halves.

 

The fabric of his yoga pants is flimsy, easily tugged to the side in favor of Derek’s ministrations.

 

He nips at the skin of Stiles’ throat, hushing his confused whimpers when he bypasses the omega’s cock completely.

 

“M’not gonna touch your cock, little one, that’s all for you, I’m gonna play with your greedy little hole while you stroke yourself for me, I want you to get your fingers all wet baby, play with your slit and tug on those perfect little balls.”

 

Stiles’ dick is hard and straining, flushed with blood and peaking out from the band of his tights.

 

Thick digits prod at Stiles’ rim, collecting slick and spreading it around the taught skin.

 

“C’mon, baby, I wanna see you touch yourself, you stop, I stop.”

 

He’s so turned on he could cry, but he grips himself in a shaking palm, spreading pre cum along his veined shaft.

 

“That’s it, pup, so good for your Alpha.”

 

Derek pushes the tip of his finger into Stiles’ hole, wrist twitching as he aches to slide the whole thing inside.

 

He licks at the seam of Stiles’ lips, coaxing his pout open to tongue inside, a crude kiss that’s more saliva and teeth than anything else.

 

Stiles is desperate for it, pushing back on Derek’s finger and forward into his own stroke.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby, so perfect.”

 

His free hand slips down to knead Stiles’ asscheek, pulling and squeezing the tender skin as Stiles mewled in delight.

 

He has two fingers sheathed in the omega’s vice like heat, a third is working in tight little circles, massaging his perineum in a tease.

 

Derek presses their foreheads together, ruby gaze enraptured by the wanton state of his mate, his fangs drop, mouth filling with saliva as the aura of the boy’s oncoming orgasm scents the air.

 

“Get yourself dirty for me, wanna taste you.”

 

He rubs his palms over Stiles’ skin, rucking up his shirt in the process, as  blunt nails scratch across the boy’s skin. He squeezes at Stiles’ ass, then moves to his balls, pulling and tugging to milk his orgasm right out of him.

 

The tips of Stiles’ nipples are sheened, pebbled and achy, rose bud red and desperate for relief.

 

He scissors his fingers, stretching the now lax skin surrounding them, then curls his index, stroking over Stiles’ prostate, once, twice, and then his boy is falling forward, orgasm forcing a cry from his parched throat.

 

Derek coaxes him through it, pulling on his balls ‘till Stiles expends every drop.

 

In moments, Stiles’ view is shifted, Derek has him tossed over his shoulder, yoga pants scrunched beneath his ass, limp cock twitching as the head ghosts along Derek’s upper chest.

 

Derek deposits him on an exercise bench, frenzied as he lifts Stiles’ shirt to bare his stomach.

 

He grips his leaking cock in his right hand,stripping the length, eyes trained on Stiles’ flesh.

 

The Alpha tucks the pointer finger of his left into the omega’s mouth, fucking in and out of it wetly as his orgasm burns at the base of his spine.

 

All it takes is a plea, and Derek is painting Stiles’ stomach with his release, marking him up as he requested.

 

Stiles swirls a finger in the mess, moaning around it happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I appreciate your continued support, the kudos, the comments, and the subs are a sublime motivation.
> 
> This story is drawing to a close, any requests for what you'd like to see before this portion is over? I'll be turning this into a series, adding on one shot snapshots of Stiles and Derek's life, past, present, and future, both dream and physical realm. I'm more than open to anything you'd like to see so feel free to leave your suggestions below.
> 
> Enjoy your week/weekend, 'till next time!
> 
> *The Gen & M's nickname came from Stiles' obsession with M&M's when he was younger, he'd eat them during every meal and even dressed up as one for Halloween when he was two.


	21. In the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end, folks! This has been quite the ride and I'm grateful for the support of each and every one of you, I couldn't have done this without you. I extend my deepest thanks, now without ado, the ending of Wrapped in a Dream!

**(Present Day) (December 20th, 8:53 AM)**

 

“We need to get up, _Sleepy_ wolf.” Stiles murmurs, fatigue heavy voice low in the quiet of early morning.

Derek burrows closer with a huff of derision, choosing instead to seek out the familiar warmth of his husband’s body.  His sculpted arms tighten across the stretch of Stiles’ hip, an anchoring safety as he crowds into his space.

The omega huffs, infinitely fond as he indulges his Alpha’s behavior. He loosens his muscles a bit, shoulders slumping reflexively to decrease the illusion of space between them.

A pleasant warmth shoots up Stiles’ spine as Derek mouths his appreciation into the thin skin below his ear lobe. He sighs out his appreciation, hips twitching as his arousal builds comfortably.

Streams of sunlight break through the billowing linen of their bedroom curtains, bright and intrusive as they ebb and dip, casting shadows over Derek’s relaxed features.

Stiles follows them with a fingertip, smoothing over the subtle distention of the Alpha’s brow, index gliding along the sharpness of his nose, thumb tracing the pout of his bottom lip. He startles a bit, yelping hoarsely when the curious thumb is nipped between his mate’s teeth.

Derek smirks at the spark’s reaction, eyes finally opening as he presses a kiss to the playfully abused flesh.

Before the admonishment can begin, he twists their bodies, an impressive show of strength that settles Stiles beneath him.

He centers his weight in his forearms, hovering easily (smugly) as he eyes the miles of pale skin on offer before him. Stiles is far along enough where the assumed inches separating them do little to stop their skin from pressing together. It makes Derek giddy, this visible reminder of his children's’ impending entrance into the world.

“Good-morning, my love.” He says, as he does every morning, words sandpaper rough, crystalline eyes crinkling as they reflect near white in the light.

Stiles doesn’t respond in words, just smiles, slow and sweet, rich like molasses; leaving Derek craving a taste. He dips his head, nosing along the curve of an alabaster jaw; senses flooding with _**matecubshome** _ .  The Alpha kisses his beloved, mouths slotting together with ease, its _right_ , like kissing Stiles always is, and briefly, Derek mourns his existence before this, those bleak moments without Stiles to anchor him, to abate the shadows with his blinding light; he prays he’ll never have to mourn their return.

When they separate, short breathed and chests heaving, he nudges a freckled cheek, repeating the action on the button tip of Stiles’ nose.

He slides down their bed, arching gratefully into the warm press of the spark’s fingers as they massage against his scalp.

He rests his head on Stiles’ thighs, mindful of his weight as his palm stretches across his mate’s stomach, thick fingers spanning across his belly button.

He greets the triplets with their morning kiss and rumble, chest vibrating with pride as the babies kick in response.

“And good morning to you, _angelitos_ . We can’t wait to meet you,” He begins, locking eyes with Stiles briefly before quickly returning his attention to the omega’s stomach. Every parenting book he’s read says that children are keenly aware of when they’re being ignored, _contrary to the belief of some adults_ ; he wants his cubs to know that they always have his undivided attention, whether they can actually see him or not.

Stiles shuts his eyes, fingers up keeping his massage as Derek reviews their plans for the day, he allows his mate’s words to wash over him, content with relaxing into the sheets as the cubs listen to their father. They kick for the entirety of his speech, as if afraid that Derek’ll stop if they do.

“I know your Tata’s hoping that you’ll be Christmas babies like me, but there’s no pressure, take as long as you need-“ Stiles coughs pointedly, “Well maybe not too long, I don’t think Tata’s back can handle another month.”

The omega snorts, “Don’t give them any ideas.”

“Daddy loves you all very much, Tata’s making me go gift shopping today so no afternoon cuddles, but I’ll be back for story time before bed. I still have to tell you about Papa Hale and the Odova Pack.”

Stiles perks up at that, silently wondering if Derek’s referring to his own father or his grandfather, Theodoric, he vows to not fall asleep like he usually does.

Derek hopes that their wedding vows held more conviction. He gets a pillow to the face for his troubles.

Before a full on war can commence, he presses a goodbye kiss to Stiles’ stomach, rises off the bed and gathers his mate into his arms, carrying him into the bathroom as the boy shrills his protest.

 

* * *

  **(Present Day) (December 20th, 11:18 AM)**

 

“I’d go for a large, big guy,” Stiles remarks, swapping the sweater in Derek’s hands for the preferred size.

The Alpha arches a brow, but accepts the offering none the less, thumbing over the cashmere in appreciation.

“Is this because I forgot to bring home your ice cream last night? One mistake and you’re sacrificing me to Erica? Erica’s a medium, Stiles, she made me make a note of all her sizes for this exact reason.” Derek says, voice that of someone who’s had this conversation before.

Stiles snorts, tugging his mate along with his free hand, obviously in search of something,

“You’re ridiculous.” Stiles says, delighted that his penchant for the dramatics is starting to transfer to his mate.

He saw an ad for holiday pet apparel on the store’s e-catalog last night and he’s determined to find a reindeer antlers for Lucan, meaning he’s only half listening as Derek continues to name all the ways in which Erica can dispose of his body. His familiar will likely hate the things but that’s what the pot roast is for. Never let it be said that Stiles is above using bribes. Just ask the Beacon Hills Police Department. _How else is he supposed to keep an eye on his father’s diet?_

“At least tell the cubs I died defending our territory-and name one after me, I want to be remembered in glory-.”

The omega turns, kissing his husband soundly to shut him up.

Oh how the tables have turned.

“First of all, no talk of you dying- **ever**. Secondly, I’m not offering you as tribute any time soon, you’re the only one who gets my coffee right.”

And they say true love is dead.

.“Third, I ran into Erica at the OB’s on Tuesday.”

“You mean-“  Derek exhales, thrumming with happiness for his beta,

“Isaac owes me ten dollars.”

“I’m telling Erica.” Stiles fires back, brow arched expectantly.

Derek considers him for a moment, “Keep it between us and we’ll go to Coldstone after.”

Stiles hums, “I want two large waffle cones and half the winnings. I ran out of lives on Candy Crush last night.”

Derek ignores the fact that Stiles is in charge of the app’s graphic design team. He could probably get unlimited lives if he truly wanted to. Instead, he seals the deal on a shake, using his grip to pull Stiles in for another kiss, “You’ve got a deal, Mr.Hale.” he breathes out, slightly muddled by the smack of their lips as they part.

 

∞∞∞

 

“They’ve got those virtual reality goggles Scott wants, m’gonna dash upstairs to ‘Electronics’ then I’ll meet you back at the Home and Garden section. We can get your dad’s grill while we’re here, too.”

Stiles nods his agreement, then tilts his head, allowing Derek to scent mark him before parting.

The Alpha grazes his knuckles along Stiles’ throat, following the touch with an open mouthed kiss as the same hand slides down to cup his belly. He rubs the cotton covered mound then eases out of Stiles’ space, expression souring as their distance increases.

The spark stifles a laugh, “It’ll be ten to fifteen minutes tops, Alpha, we’ll be fine, try not to maim anyone in my absence.”

“No promises.” Derek remarks drily, eyes trained on Stiles ‘till he disappears from view.

 

∞∞∞

 

_Natural Gas or Propane?_

Natural anything is pretty much a winner in Stiles’ book so he chooses accordingly, bypassing the fossil fuel harbingers of doom ‘till he’s in the gas section. He blissfully ignores the ever escalating prices as he does so.

 

“What’s a little thing like you know about barbecue?”

Stiles bristles, turning so that the source of the voice gets an eyeful of how _little_ he actually is.

For his part, the man doesn’t startle, the widening of his eyes the only outward reaction. Even that is controlled, measured into something lighter, more seductive.

It makes Stiles nauseous. His magic flares to life, humming beneath his skin, ready to unleash upon this unwanted guest.

 

“Listen here you fuck-“

The blonde cuts him off, “Aw, c’mon, sugar, don’t be like that. Now, what kind of Alpha lets their pregnant omega run off unprotected?”

Stiles smiles, pink lips and pearly white teeth, eyes fixed over the man’s shoulder.

“The kind that’s this close to snapping your fucking neck.”

Derek’s got one hand wrapped around Scott’s gift and the other is settled on the back of the interloper’s neck.

 

The blonde alpha’s reddening face suggests that the touch is anything but gentle.

 

“A-Alpha Hale, I didn’t-I-I’m-“

 

He tries to turn in Derek’s hold, already fumbling over excuses, but Derek doesn’t relent, taking great delight in squeezing harder instead.

 

Stiles isn’t a doctor or anything but he’s pretty sure bones aren’t supposed to make that noise.

 

Derek levels his mouth at the man’s ear, tone dark enough to make Stiles’ inner omega whine in anticipation.

 

“If you even so much as _think_ , about my mate again, your next trip will be in a body bag. Consider that promise my Christmas gift to you.”

 

The guy’s looking a little green, so Stiles steps back; _no vomit on his new shoes, thanks_.

 

“Leave. **Now**.”

 

The man makes haste, barreling into shoppers and displays as he flees the scene.

 

Derek waits ‘till the idiot stumbles out of the exit before turning back to Stiles.

 

He arches a brow, eyeing the grills before them in interest, “How are we supposed to wrap this thing?”

 

* * *

 

**(Present Day) (December 20th, 12:05 PM)**

 

 

“Finally, Coldstone time! I hope Jackie’s working, she always gives me extra brownies.” Stiles says, practically salivating at the thought.

Derek shakes his head, guiding his husband through the automatic doors with a steady hand on his lower back.

“[Jacquelyn](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/8d/03/f9/8d03f9c44be54d7b58c046fd1c19bc7d.jpg)!” He crows when he eyes the redhead behind the counter. The beta-teen beams, responding just as enthusiastically, “Stiles!”

Derek looks on with amusement, gaze traveling toward the toffee bars on display.

She’s tying her apron at her waist when she turns to greet Derek, neck arched respectfully, “Afternoon, Alpha Hale.”

Derek eyes bloom red, acknowledging the gesture, before fading to their familiar blue-green, “How are you doing, Jacquelyn? And please, call me, Derek, I’m sure my husband’s insisted.” He says, doing his best to appear friendly and non-threatening.  A voice that sounds suspiciously like Stiles’ reminds him that it’s a work in progress.

The girl flushes, nodding jerkily as she forces out a cheeky, “Got it, boss!” Complete with finger guns. It’s something he’s seen Stiles do more often than he’d like to admit and he’s hit with the stunning realization that in a matter of days he’ll have a trio of little _StilesandDerek’s_ running around, likely imitating everything they see their Tata doing. It makes his chest a little tight if he’s being honest.

He’s saved by Stiles raucous laughter, most likely knowing exactly what Derek was thinking.

The mage claps his hands together, successfully diverting from his mate’s potential nervous breakdown, “I want two of your largest cones, Jackie-girl, one Vanilla Dream, and one half Choco-Loco, half Caramel Swirl, extra sprinkles, it’s _Alpha’s treat_.” He punctuates with a wink, grinning when the teen snickers behind the glass.

“And for you Alpha- _Derek_?”

Derek orders a plain vanilla cone, knowing that he’ll likely be forced to try Stiles’ concoctions, he makes a mental note to snag one of those toffee bars before they head home.

While Jacquelyn works on their orders, he guides Stiles to their usual table, a two seater overlooking the hustle and bustle of the town square.

The red head is busy attending to the horde of school children that just walked in so a brunette,[Paige](http://www.hdwallpapers3d.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/anne_hathaway_2-normal.jpg), her name tag reads, rings up their order.

He’s pulling out a twenty when the woman reaches out to touch his wrist, stroking over the skin with clear intent “That won’t be necessary _Alpha_ Hale.” She purrs out.

Derek arches a brow, snatching his wrist back immediately, “That’s very kind of you but it’s the least I can do, this our favorite spot.” He says, angling his head toward where his husband waits not so patiently, Derek tenses, mate bond pulsing with a sudden fury.

Paige leans forward, all smiles even as Derek takes a few steps back, he’s in no way intimidated but the rotten scent wafting off this woman is enough to make his nose wrinkle in disgust.

“And **you** , Alpha, are our favorite customer,” She says, with emphasis, seemingly unaware of both Derek’s discomfort and the fact that his mate can hear everything they’re saying. Or perhaps she doesn’t care.

The cash register she’s resting on pops open, effectively forcing the breath out of her as the drawer punches into her stomach.

Derek seizes the moment for what it is, and escapes, but not before tossing the bill into the still open drawer.

Stiles makes grabby hands as he draws closer, “Come to daddy!”

Derek carefully deposits the cones into his outstretched hands, kissing Stiles’ cheek before settling in across from him, “I thought I was Daddy?”

“Semantics.” Stiles garbles out in between licks.

He waits ‘till Stiles has half a cone left respectively before he brings it up, “Any chance that register committed battery of its own free will?”

The spark bats his lashes sweetly, pinning Derek with his most innocent look, it’s the same one he wears when he’s got Derek’s cock in his mouth, needless to say it isn’t very convincing, “Nope.”

Derek nods, resigned to the fact that Paige kind of deserved it, “Fair enough.”

Stiles beams, rising out of his chair on wobbly legs, he’ll never quite get used to his new center of gravity, “You know I love it when you admit I’m right, keep it up and I’ll have to blow you on the way home.”

The Alpha’s ears turn a spectacular shade of red, “ _Stiles_.”

His mate blinks guilelessly, as if to say _Who me?,_ “Don’t _Stiles_ , me, you know you love it. Now hold this,” he says, thrusting his ice cream at his husband, “Your children are playing hop scotch on my bladder.”

∞∞∞

 

Paige is taking out the trash when he walks in. Stiles marvels at the irony of the situation.

She tenses when she sees him, slouching as she attempts to shrink herself. Stiles doesn’t blame her, he’d be scared of him too. “I’ll be right out of your way-just sorting this out.”

Stiles remains at the entrance, leaning against the door frame, one hand soothing over the skin of his stomach, “Take your time.” He says, all false cheer and dark intent.

Despite her wanton display earlier, Paige actually may be smarter than she looks because she speeds up her efforts, emptying all the bins in the room with a dizzying speed.

He’s still guarding the exit as she attempts her escape, “Paige, is it?” He queries, tone betraying the fact that he knows exactly who she is.

She nods meekly, bags gripped in her fists for dear life.

“I’m sure I don’t have to warn you against a repeat of that little stunt you pulled out there, right?” Before she can answer, he pushes off the door frame, effectively eliminating her personal space, “But in case I do, allow me to get across what that register didn’t.”

His eyes flood white, glowing with the promise of restrained power, “Don’t you _ever_ delude yourself into thinking that my husband, your Residing Alpha, would ever be so _insane_ as to sacrifice our bond and vows for your little country girl routine. Touch what’s mine again and you won’t have a pot to piss in, least of all five fingers.”

“Y-yes, A-Alpha.” She stutters out, scent rank with fear.

Stiles smiles, eyes revisiting their usual hazel, “Glad we understand each other.”

∞∞∞

 

“Paige went home early, apparently she wasn’t feeling well.” Derek says, somehow managing without inflection to make a statement sound like a question.

Stiles takes his ice cream back as it’s offered, “You asking me or telling me?” He says, suddenly bored with the topic of conversation.

That’s as good an answer as any so Derek takes his free hand, entwining their fingers, “I love you.”

Stiles hums happily, giving their joined appendages a squeeze, “I know.”

 

* * *

 

  **(Present Day) (December 24th, 4:45 PM)**

“Use the Olaf wrapping paper for Boyd’s! It’s in the Target bag!” Stiles calls out over his shoulder, steps measured as he wobbles into the kitchen.

He passes Lucan on the way and holds in his snicker as the wolf eyes him balefully, “[Looking good](http://www.sawyoo.com/postpic/2013/12/reindeer-antlers-headband_259568.jpg), pup.”

There’s still got some yogurt left over from this morning’s breakfast, add in the fruit Derek picked up from the farmer’s market and he’s got the makings of a pretty good parfait.

He’s dicing strawberries, when a sharp pain surges through his lower back, the feeling spreads, moving to his lower abdomen and down his legs.

It’s the big boy version of the discomfort he’s been feeling all day and he finally recognizes it for what it is.

The sudden spread of amniotic fluid across the seat of his pants is also a big tip off.

Derek’s got him bridal-style before he can even call out his name.

“It’s show-time, Alpha.”

∞∞∞

 

Celia’s waiting for them at the birthing den when they arrive, having sped over at Derek’s call. She’s going to act as midwife with Alden assisting when necessary, Laura’s mate is finishing up a call at his own practice but informed Derek that he’d arrive within the hour.

She walks over to the pair, exuding a calming aura with every step, mindful of the fragile state of both the Alpha and his mate. She won’t be able to deliver the babies if Derek rips her throat out.

Her hands are held out in front of her, palm out, a placating gesture, reinforced by her soothing tone, “Let’s get him undressed and into the pool, Alpha, he needs you- _they_ , need you now more than ever.”

Derek strips his mate with gentle hands, calling upon their bond to soothe his frayed nerves.

When he’s done, he lowers Stiles into the bathing pool, blackened veins dulling the boy’s discomfort all the while.

As Celia fills the tub with shoots of lavender and petals of rose, he strips down to his underwear so that he can join his mate.

Once settled, the only thing they can do is wait, soothing Stiles through each contraction ‘till their babies are ready to join the world.

 

∞∞∞

 

[ Luna, Anthello, and Niklaus Hale ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/d4/76/84/d476848642d06884f5d4daad1c2303df.jpg) are born at 12:01, 12:17, and 12:32 Christmas morning. Their youngest sister, [ Gaia ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/e7/bb/75/e7bb757124ce5ce65ea0805a0e435a2d.jpg), is born at 12:45.

As forewarned by Alden, there very well was another cub “setting up camp elsewhere”. Stiles’ 50% cut just got upgraded to 75; his womb, his rules.

 

Speaking of Alden, the obstetrician was hovering behind the Alpha Pair, tears in his eyes as he took in the scene, “M’gonna call in The Pack.”

 

Derek nods his assent, cradling Luna and Anthello against his chest. Stiles is taking his turn with Gaia and Niklaus, now fully clothed as he rests in the nest of blankets at the center of the den.

 

The newest additions to their pack are quiet and curious, baby-blue eyes flickering back and frth between their parents. When he taps into it, he can feel the silver tendrils of **_offspringfamilycubs_** stretching from [the babies](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/a3/68/3c/a3683c7d40624d6f0d2bc27abc5e42d8.jpg) to intertwine with the thick red band that connects Stiles to himself, the bonds of their pack mates follow in kind, tangling and twisting into a mosaic flurry of light and color.

 

He allows the love and relief he’s feeling in this moment to carry through the bond, smile brightening as his betas respond with unbridled enthusiasm.

 

Stiles twists to see him, golden eyes wet with tears, “We did good, Alpha.”

 

 

* * *

 

  **Dream (July  8th 2016; 11 pm)**

 

_He’s up and out of bed before he can register why, pulling on a pair of sweats before making his way downstairs._

_The spot beside him is empty but still warm, suggesting that its occupant has only recently vacated._

_The house is quiet, a rarity in the days passed. The chilled hardwood creaks beneath his feet, subtly guiding him as he exits their den._

_The fauna are excited to see him, as they always are these days,they nip at his heels urging him forward with playful impatience._

_His heart is a steady thrum in his ears, synchronized with the five beats awaiting him at the clearing’s center._

_They’re absolutely beautiful he thinks, fallen angels, bequeathed to his care._

_The man murmuring to them is lithe, pale and freckled, compact in his musculature. His power calls to Derek, curling around his wolf, familiar and unrepentant._

_A warmth settles and blooms in his chest, wrapping around him, he feels safer now, content._ _  
_ _The pull magnifies and he finds himself entering the clearing, grinning as the flora bloom around him._

_He rushes forward, curling around his mate and cubs, allowing their scents to lull his burdened soul._

_His beloved cups his cheek, eyes a blinding light in the darkened wood, cherry lips settled around a smirk, “You found us.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see I added this work to a series, I'll be posting little one shot peeks into the life of our favorite Alpha Pair, I strongly encourage you all to request any scenes you'd like to see, anything that I didn't cover in this installation that you were interested in, I'm all ears.  
> Thank you again for your support and kind words, this is my most popular fic to date and I can't even wrap my head around it. I hope you all enjoyed, thank you for reading, and I'll see you all in the near future!


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